


The Curious Case of The Missing Pearl

by theartificialwolf



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: 1940s AU, AU, Bisexuality, Brief Violence, Detectives, Gangsters, Het, Lesbian, Multi, Multichapter, Mystery, Noir AU, Smut, Suspense, femme fatales, implied BDSM
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 10:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 65,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5705062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theartificialwolf/pseuds/theartificialwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Private Detective Katya Zamolodchikova is looking for an interesting new case when a beautiful woman walks in with a story about a missing lover named Pearl. She turns out to be the mysterious and alluring burlesque performer, Violet Chachki, who seems to have a great many secrets of her own. Miss Chachki and her case enthral the detective, drawing her, her partner Max and their secretary Trixie into a world they never knew existed, ruled over by a mob boss who fancies himself a god. What appeared to be a missing persons case quickly turns into a series of events that turns their entire world upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: I Don't Mind A Reasonable Amount of Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This idea has been kicking around in my head for a while and it wouldn't let me work on other things until I wrote it. This is a film noir author's universe so I have taken an ton of liberties with characters and setting. Please don't expect this to be realistic as it's just a fun idea I had after watching The Maltese Falcon with my loves. I'm such a huge fan of noir film so I hope you enjoy my little take on it!  
> Love always, The Wolf
> 
> (Also, please note that most of this verse has already been posted on tumblr!)

Private Detective Katya Zamolodchikova slowly blew out a cloud of smoke as she pondered over the strange events that had lead her to this moment. Katya discarded her cigarette and crushed the butt beneath her heel. Rain started to fall from the heavens and the Russian flipped up her collar and drew it about her face. She made sure her hat was secure on her head and strode out into the downpour.

It had all started the fateful day that their secretary Trixie had knocked on the door of her office where she and her lanky crime fighting partner, Max Malanaphy, were discussing their recent lack of interesting cases.

"Come in," Katya called out. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"There's a girl here to see you two. Her name's Morada," Trixie announced.

"A customer?" inquired Max as he smoothed back his prematurely grey hair. His soft English accent colored his words.

"I guess so. You'll want to see her anyway. She's a knockout. Shall I show her in?" Trixie asked.

"By all means, angel," responded Katya, her Russian accent thick.

She exchanged a significant look with Max before the door opened once again to admit their secretary, followed by a beautiful dame. She was tall and slender, with a tiny waist, and she possessed delicate features. Silken black waves and side swept bangs framed her pretty face. Plush red lips, with a beauty mark just above the right corner, a narrow nose, big doe-like brown eyes framed by thick, long lashes and thin, high arching brows were visible behind a fine black veil attached to a fascinator. Her dress was of the latest fashion and it had been tailored to fit her attractive body perfectly. She was, as Trixie put it, a knock out.

"You must be Miss Morada," said Max smoothly, offering his hand. The dame put a dainty gloved hand in his and he brought it to his lips to kiss.

"Enchanted," she practically purred. Her voice was sultry, a sinful sounding contralto whose silky tones could bring a lesser man to his knees. This one was dangerous-that much was certain. "Now would you be Detective Malanaphy or Detective Zamolodchikova?"

"Malanaphy," he responded. "But you can call me Max." She blushed and smiled coyly at his forwardness before turning her gaze to Katya, who was standing there, blatantly staring at her. 

"I guess that makes you Detective Zamolodchikova. Charmed to meet you." She presented her hand to Katya to kiss. The Russian obliged. 

"My name is Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova, but you can call me Katya," she introduced herself. 

"You can call me Bettie then, if we're all to be on a first name basis," she said, her sad smile widening slightly as she looked between the pair. Trixie had slipped out of the room unnoticed as the detectives had been distracted with their potential client. "I'm afraid I find myself in need of assistance. I asked around to see if anyone knew a good detective and your names came up. You see, I need to find someone. Someone very dear to me... My friend Pearl..." she trailed off sadly as she turned away from them to stare wistfully out of their fourth story window. When she turned back to face them, tears were threatening to spill from her pretty eyes and she fiddled uncertainly with her necklace- a simple gold chain with a single pearl hanging from it. She tried to speak but no words came out.

Max was quick to get up and offer her his handkerchief. "What happened, Miss Bettie?"

The lovely brunette accepted the handkerchief and began to dab at her eyes with it. "Pearl was in some sort of trouble. I don't know what- she wouldn't tell me. All I know is that she was going to see someone called Miss Fame who was staying at the Hotel Cosmo. She was to give the front desk the password, 'Rolls Royce' to be admitted to see this woman. And well... She went to see her. No one has seen or heard from her since and that was over a week ago." Tears once again threatened fall and ruin her impeccable makeup. 

"We'll help you find your friend, Miss Bettie," Katya consoled the stricken woman. 

"Please don't cry," Max said gently. He was a kind soul who hated to see anyone distressed. "We'll get to the bottom of this." 

"Please be discreet. I'd hate for something to happen to either of you. You seem such decent sorts, helping out someone like me. I've only got about $2,000 at the moment but I can have more by the end of the week," she promised.

"That'll be just fine, Miss Bettie," assured Katya. "What does Pearl look like?"

"She's a platinum blonde, thin and attractive with bright blue eyes. Here," she fished a photograph out of her purse. In it, Bettie and a pretty blonde were laughing, glasses in their hands and arms thrown around each other- clearly a scene from a nightclub party. Katya took it to examine closely before handing it to to Max. 

"We'll get started right away. We'll see if we can track down this Miss Fame. Why don't you come back tomorrow morning around 10? We should have some news to tell you by then," the Russian stated.

"Thank you, oh thank you so much!" Bettie sounded relieved. She held the slightly damp handkerchief out to Max. "Thank you for this too. I'm afraid I've gotten a bit of my makeup on it," she admitted bashfully. 

"Keep it," Max said gently. The beautiful woman closed her hand around the cloth as she smiled at the tall detective. 

"Thank you kindly," she said. "Thank you both. I'll see you tomorrow then. Goodbye, detectives."

"Goodbye, Miss Bettie," Max responded. 

"See you at ten," said Katya. The dame nodded to them and walked out with both detectives' eyes glued to her swaying hips as she withdrew from the office.

Trixie reentered and took in their expressions. "I told you she was a knockout. What did she want?"

"She's got a missing person she wants us to find. Her friend went to see a Miss Fame and hasn't been seen in a week," answered the Russian. 

"Miss Fame? The nightclub singer?" asked the secretary. 

"She's a singer? What would she want to do with Miss Bettie's friend?" Max pondered.

"What club does she sing at, doll? Perhaps we should pay them a visit," suggested Katya.

"Club Seven downtown. You'll be careful, won't you?" Trixie asked, looking at Katya concerned. Their torrid love affair was something of an open secret. Max didn't mind and thought it was rather romantic and his was the only opinion outside of their own that they cared about. 

"Always, doll," Katya assured her and a heated look passed between the pair before Trixie turned away.

Max coughed discreetly. "Perhaps we should get going? Wouldn't want the trail to go cold," he reminded them. 

"Of course, partner." The Russian began to put on her coat, eyes not leaving her lover. Whatever Miss Bettie Morada and her friend Pearl had gotten themselves into was trouble and they all knew it. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Club Seven turned out to be a bust. The surly owner had no interest in two suits poking around his establishment and while he confirmed that he had a chanteuse by the name of Miss Fame in his employ, he asserted that what she did in her off hours was not his business. 

"What a shady character!" exclaimed the young Englishman as the club owner shut the door abruptly in their faces.

"Well, lucky for us, we've still got another lead," said Katya as she light up a cigarette. She held out her case to her partner who took one and held the cigarette to his mouth with slim fingers as Katya lit it for him. "The Hotel Cosmo isn't far from here."

"What do you think we'll find there?" Max exhaled, framing his angelic face in elegant swirls of smoke. 

"The usual: broken dreams and despair," said the Russian conversationally.

"Always such a pessimist, Katya," Max replied in a bemused tone. 

Her partner was a stark contrast to herself, with his angelic features, and bright outlook on life. His youth was offset by his grey hair and worldly manner, along with his impeccable grooming habits and refined sensibilities. He seemed a old soul in a young body. The Russian was ten years older than her partner but despite their differences, they worked well together and got along famously. The two foreigners found kindred souls in each other and it made their working relationship into a real friendship. 

"Always. Let's go find our next clue," Katya declared and grinned broadly. Max returned her expression and they set off.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The Hotel Cosmo was not what they expected. It was a stately, dignified building on the fringes of a nice neighborhood. It didn't seem the sort of place to find a singer who worked in the sleazy establishment they'd just left. The lobby was plush and warm, if a bit dark and mysterious. 

"We should take a look around. This seems suspicious," whispered Max.

Katya ignored him and walked boldly up to the man behind the desk. "Hi. We're here to see Miss Fame about a Rolls Royce?" She flashed her pearly whites at him. 

"Both of you?" He looked the detectives up and down. "Hmm, alright. I'll give her a ring." He turned to make the call.

"Katya, what are you doing?" hissed Max. 

"Getting to the bottom of this," Katya whispered back.

"We can't just waltz in there! We have no idea if Miss Fame really is as harmless as this place suggests she is. This is foolish!" Max whispered back frantically. 

"Excuse me. Miss Fame will see you now. Room 222, second floor on the right as you exit the elevator. She's expecting you shortly," the man told them. 

"Thank you," responded Katya. She could feel Max's eyes boring into her back as she lead the way. 

"This makes me very uncomfortable, Katya," he hissed once they were alone in the elevator. 

"I'm sorry but the sooner we find out about this Miss Fame, the better," the Russian contended. Max had no response other than to thin his lips and stare at the doors. The elevator dinged and the opened, revealing an ordinary beige hallway. They turned right and found room 222 at the end of the corridor. Katya looked to her partner before knocking. At his nod, she proceeded. 

"Come in," a sultry voice called out to them. "The door's open."

Katya swung the door open and she and Max entered cautiously. The room was empty and that made them nervous.

"I don't get many walk-ins, especially not a couple." They turned to face the owner of that sexy voice. A beautiful woman leaned against the doorframe. She was platinum blonde, slim and tanned, with a beauty mark on her forehead. Her makeup was flawless, her hair perfectly coiffed and she wore sheer lingerie, sinfully shiny black leather heels and lacy garters and stockings that showed off her lovely figure. She brandished a leather riding crop. The dominatrix had a predatory look about her, as if she were analyzing just how to take them both apart. 

"Oh we're not a couple!" exclaimed Max, his voice a bit shrill with nerves. If the dominatrix was surprised by this, she gave no outward indication of it. 

"Friends then," she purred. "What brings you here then if you're not a couple?" She raised a perfect eyebrow, intrigued. 

"We're here to-" Max began before Katya cut him off. 

"We've heard such good things about you, Miss Fame," Katya smiled broadly, trying to give off an air of ease that she didn't feel. She apparently wasn't convincing enough because the dominatrix was suddenly aiming a revolver at them. 

"Hands where I can see them. Why are you two really here?" Miss Fame's face was hard and unreadable. Max and Katya complied with her demands.

"We heard you sing at Club Seven. We're big fans of yours," lied Katya. The dominatrix cocked the gun and aimed it at the Russian. "Ok, we're detectives investigating the disappearance of a young woman named Pearl," she explained.

"Pearl? Pearl Liaison? She's missing? I haven't seen her in months since she.... That two-faced bitch Violet Chachki put you up to this, didn't she?!" exclaimed the chanteuse, her words growing angrier by the second. "This is a sting isn't it? Well, I haven't done anything illegal!" 

"We believe you," said Max earnestly. "The woman who hired us wasn't named Violet Chachki though." Fame lowered the gun slightly and her face softened a bit. The detectives also put down their hands.

"Pretty brunette with big brown eyes and the tiniest waist you ever saw?" the singer asked. The pair nodded. "Yeah, that's her alright. Bet she gave you a pseudonym," Fame sounded bitter. 

"What happened between you two? And is Pearl really her friend?" Katya asked gently. 

Fame sighed and tucked the gun into her belt as she fetched a luxe robe to wrap around herself.

"If her latest lover is missing, it's her fault. Or maybe he got wise and he left her. That would be poetic. She isn't used to that." Fame laughed hollowly. "Stay away from that girl. Whatever she's involved in now, she's probably in over her head and hoping you two detectives can bail her out of it." Fame looked sternly at them. 

Max looked taken aback but Katya wasn't entirely shocked by this turn of events. "How do you know Violet and Pearl? And you called Pearl a he?" Katya inquired. 

"Pearl Liaison is the stage name of Matt James Lent. To some he's a performer, to others he's a con artist. I knew he was trouble when he walked into the club Violet and I worked at before, The Kit Kat Club," Fame explained. "He used to dress up all pretty and sit right in front of the stage and stuff big bills into Violet's panties and she'd shower him with attention. I don't know if Violet realized just what he was. I tried to warn her about him but she didn't believe me and got me fired from the place."

"How did she get you fired?" Max asked, concern written all over his face. 

"Oh don't worry your pretty little head about me, baby cakes. I'm better off elsewhere. I got fired because Violet ratted on me to management, telling them that I was taking patrons here to dominate them. I don't have sex with my clients, detectives. I'm not a call girl- I've got a brand to maintain. I just help them let out the passions they normally keep hidden. It's not illegal, just against the contract I signed with that club. If Pearl is missing, I bet Violet thinks I have something to do with it," Fame elaborated.

"Now why would she think that?" the Russian asked.

"I was jealous of the attention Violet showed Pearl. To be perfectly frank, I still am. I miss Violet and I'm not sorry Pearl is gone but that doesn't mean I have anything to do with his disappearance," the dominatrix asserted.

"You miss her?" Max seemed confused.

"Oh you're just precious aren't you? Yes I miss her. I miss the sound of her voice and I miss the impossible curve of her waist. I miss the way she'd look at me and I miss the way she'd aim to please me. I miss the days when we were lovers, detectives, but I know that she's dangerous. She's too in love with thrill to be anything else but. You be careful around her," she warned them. She fished a card from a drawer. "Here," she said, placing the card in Katya's hand. "If you need to find me in a more conventional way, that's my address and telephone. Keep in touch, detectives. I'd hate to see anything bad happen to you two. And if you're ever in need of my services, you know how to find me here." She winked suggestively. 

"Thank you, Miss Fame," said Katya earnestly as she and Max bid her goodbye and left. 

Once they were outside, the grey-haired detective began to speak. "Well that left us with more questions than answers. What do we do next?" Max seemed agitated.

"We go home, eat some supper, sleep a little bit and confront 'Miss Bettie' in the morning," replied the Russian. 

Max seemed about to say something but thought better of it. "Don't keep Trixie up too late then," he smirked and tipped his hat before departing. 

Trixie's apartment wasn't far away so Katya elected to walk over. When she knocked on her door, Trixie admitted her without even checking to see who it was first. 

Without looking at her lover, the secretary resumed making dinner. 

"We found out a little more about our client. Miss Bettie Morada is actually Miss Violet Chachki and this missing Pearl of hers is actually a con man. And Miss Fame turned out to be the world's chattiest singing dominatrix. Fame seems to think that Violet is in over her head. Seems like Miss Violet owes us a new story," Katya said conversationally. She went to go embrace her lover from behind. Trixie, however, shrugged out of her touch. "Come on, babe, don't be like that," persuaded the Russian. 

"Why did you really take on this case? Please don't tell me it's because that woman batted her eyelashes at you and Max," Trixie's voice was laced with venom. "You knew she was trouble the moment she walked in. I was hoping you'd have better news but this is worse. You can't just get involved with every beautiful woman who comes in off the street. One of these days it'll be the end of you."

"I don't 'get involved' with my clients, dollface. It's just business. I love you, Trix. Please believe me," Katya pleaded.

"I'll believe you if you finally make an honest woman of me. Why did you take her case?" repeated Trixie.

"I don't mind a reasonable amount of trouble," Katya grinned but Trixie turned away. 

"You find her sexy," accused the younger girl. "Don't deny it."

"You said it yourself, she's a knockout. But at the end of the day, you're the one I want to be with, Trix," the Russian implored.

Trixie sighed deeply. "I know. I just... I just am afraid one day you just won't come back from one of these cases..." She trailed off forlornly. Katya put a hand gingerly on Trixie shoulder. This time she didn't reject it. 

"I'm sorry, doll. I know you're worried. Let me make it up to you." The Russian spun her lover to face her and claimed her lips in an eager kiss. Trixie melted into her embrace and Katya dominated the kiss, forcefully taking possession of it and pushing her lover up against the nearest surface. A resounding crash quickly made them realize that making out in the kitchen probably wasn't the best idea as their supper hit the floor. They stared at each other in disbelief before breaking out into uproarious laughter. 

"The diner around the corner is still open. My treat," said Katya.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning the three of them were on edge, waiting for their client to appear. Katya had filled Trixie in on the details over dinner and Max had mulled it over and they'd all discussed possible theories and explanations for the whole bizarre case. Several cups of coffee and a couple cigarettes later and they finally heard a knock on the office door at five to ten. Trixie jumped to answer it but Katya indicated she should stay where she was.

"Come in!" Katya said. The beautiful dame entered and looked surprised to see the stern expressions on the trio's faces. She looked back and forth between them, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

"Is something the matter?" she asked concerned. "Did something happen?"

"We've got a lot to discuss, Miss Morada. Or should I say, Miss Chachki?"


	2. Chapter 2: Bettie Page Reveals All

The dame didn't miss a beat. "I suppose you talked to Miss Fame then," she said steadily. "Yes, my name really is Violet Chachki. What else did she tell you?" She didn't seem to show the slightest bit of remorse about being caught in her lie. 

"How did you come to meet Miss Pearl Liaison?" Katya countered, not ready to put all their cards on the table just yet. 

"I'm a burlesque performer at the Kit Kat Club and Miss Liaison attended my shows. Miss Fame used to sing there too before she was mysteriously let go one night. No one really is sure what happened."

"Miss Fame was rather under the impression that someone ratted her out for contract violations. Someone who was once very close to her and knew about her side business," Katya implied heavily. Her accusations were not lost on the beautiful broad. 

"Whatever Fame may think, I didn't do it. I knew what she did, of course, but I wasn't the one who ratted her out."

"Who did then?" asked Max.

"Pearl was one of her clients. It's clever if you think about it. I turned her down on account of Fame at first," Violet suggested. 

"Explain," the Russian demanded flatly. Violet took a moment to daintily take a seat and smooth down her skirt before continuing to speak.

"Pearl didn't know at first that Fame and I fooled around sometimes. Nothing really serious. It's just... Fame and I relate to each other on a level many others can't. Women like she and I are to be chased, had and cast aside, not kept and cared for so you take them for all they'll give you before it's time to part ways. Best to drop them and leave them wanting than the other way around. You do what you have to in order to survive. It's a lonely life sometimes but we chose it for ourselves." 

She paused and took a deep breath. "All this time she thought I betrayed her. And I thought that her termination was just an excuse because she didn't want to see me anymore. I thought she grew tired of me. I had never had a friend before her and we had grown into something more than just friends. When she left, I was devastated. Fame was the only person I trusted. And with Pearl coming to my shows night after night, I couldn't help but fall into her arms. At least for a time." She laughed hollowly as she turned to stare out the window. "What a world we live in, detectives."

For the first time since she'd first walked into their lives, she looked vulnerable. Either she was a very good actress or she telling the truth, surmised Katya. Max shifted uncomfortably, clearly taken in by her story and unhappy at seeing the dame suffering. Trixie seemed to be thinking it over, unsure whether or not to believe the brunette. 

Katya couldn't help breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Miss Fame also told us that Miss Liaison is actually Mister Lent."

Violet turned to stare at her wide-eyed. "What?" she exclaimed, shock overpowering her melancholy. 

"Pearl Liaison is the stage name of con artist Matt James Lent," Katya elaborated. 

"That's impossible!" denied the burlesque performer. "She can't be..." Even as her words denied it, the realization sunk into her body and she looked faint. Max moved to catch her as her knees gave out and Trixie fetched her some water. Tears fell freely down Violet's face and Max dried her tears with his handkerchief and held her close as sobs wracked her body. He was hooked, line and sinker. Bless his young, beautiful bleeding heart.

The funny thing was, even though Violet had admitted to lying them earlier, Katya didn't think she was lying now. She probably used her tears to manipulate people all the time but the Russian doubted that she ever voluntarily let people see when she was really crying. To let them see her vulnerability was either a brilliant ploy or a genuine act. Underneath that cold exterior seemed to be a warm heart. It made the cynical detective wonder what the doll had been through that left her alone in the big city with only a string of short-term, manipulatable lovers and her only ally taken from her in a strange twist of fate. What a world indeed. 

Grudgingly, Katya might have some respect for the dame to remain so strong despite everything she'd been through. But even that was not enough to make the Russian fully forgive or believe the dame just yet. 

Her sobbing had subsided by now and Max was coaxing her to drink the glass of water the secretary had gotten her. "Why hire us to go after Fame then?" Katya's voice was hard and three pairs of eyes turned to stare at her. 

"I thought she had something to do with Pearl's disappearance. Some sort of petty revenge against me," the girl admitted, her voice surprisingly even. 

"Is Miss Fame even capable of that? Despite her side business, she doesn't exactly seem the type," disputed Max gently, not wanting to upset the woman next to him. 

"She's got connections to the mob. I try to stay out of it but when you're a creature of the night, you can't always. You can always tell the type. Arrogant pricks who act like they own the place. They pull guns out if you don't do what they want." Bitterness colored her tone. "Several were her clients or just liked to hear her sing. Either way, if she really wanted something, I have no doubt that she could get it." Whether she stayed out of mob dealings or not, Katya was sure that the same could be said of Miss Chachki.

"When did you last see this Pearl of yours?" interrogated Katya. Max shot her a hard look but the Russian continued to press the issue. "And how did you end up coming to us?"

"That part of my story was true at least. I did find myself in need of assistance to find Pearl and someone did tell me you two were the finest detectives in the city. The only thing I lied to you about was my name. Over a week ago I had invited Pearl over to come to my place after attending one of my shows but she didn't show up at the club. When I got home that night, there was a bouquet of flowers outside my door with a note from Pearl saying she was sorry and she'd make it up to me by coming to my next show and taking me out for a nice dinner. She didn't go to that show, or any since. She used to come see me every night. If she were leaving me, I don't think she would have bothered with the flowers or note." She stared the Russian down, daring Katya to contradict her. "When I asked around, one of the other girls had seen her at the Hotel Cosmo, telling the front desk about a Rolls Royce. All the girls there have their passwords. As you well know, that one's Fame's."

The implications sat heavy in the air. "Did Pearl have any other associates? Anyone she would come to your shows with?" Max asked. 

"No, she always came alone. Left alone too as far as anyone was concerned. We were very discreet. The Kit Kat Club is a good gig and I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize it. Dating a patron isn't against the rules, but letting it interfere is. The only person who knew about us was Fame, which is why I suspected her." The pretty brunette crossed her arms.

"Do you still have this note from Pearl?" Trixie piped up. The others had forgotten she was in the room and Violet stared peculiarly at her.

"Yes. Why?" She raised an arched brow. 

"The detectives could run some tests on it to look for clues," the secretary explained as she busied herself pulling out a forensics kit which she handed to her lover. Katya took it but didn't move. She was too busy staring hard at the untrustworthy dame. 

"You still don't believe me," Violet stated, staring hard at the blonde detective. "I told you- the only thing I lied to you about was my name and I may not have been entirely forthcoming for my motivations in having you go see Miss Fame but everything else is true. I suppose I have no one to blame but myself if you can't believe me now." She stood and pulled several bills out of her purse. "For your time, detectives." She headed for the door.

"Wait!" called Max. Violet turned back to face him, a dainty eyebrow arched. "We can still check the note for clues. Its existence proves at least some of your story." Max shot a pleading look at his partner. Violet too gave her a look, although hers was much harder. Katya nodded.

"Very well. It's at my place." Violet told them. "I unfortunately have a rehearsal I must attend before my show tonight. Why don't you meet me at the Kit Kat Club at 10 o'clock and we'll catch a cab back there? I'll even pay you overtime."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Violet's place was in an older part of the city, not in the best neighborhood, but also not the worst. She lived in one of those industrial high rises that simultaneously gave its residents a lot of privacy and made them feel very isolated because it wasn't the sort of place to get to know any of your neighbors. They didn't want to know them. It wasn't a place for happy families or decent, upstanding members of the community. This was a place where lived hardened working-class migrants and independent, enterprising individuals who had come to the city with stars in their eyes to pursue their dreams and found the city to be, in actuality, a bleak wasteland of broken dreams and wasted potential. Katya rather suspected Violet fell into the later category of city dwellers.

Her apartment was on the seventh floor and it was tidy and well-kept, in contrast to the decay and disrepair of the building itself. The walls had been recently repainted inside and there wasn't a spot of dust to be found. A charming array of knickknacks dotted the shelves and decorated the surfaces of her place. It was lovely. Violet, however, had frozen as soon as she walked in. She held a finger to her lips and whispered to them, "I hope you're packing heat, detectives. Someone was here. They might still be." She indicated a closed door.

Max and Katya drew their pistols and the Russian threw open the door as her partner rushed in. An undignified squawk sounded and Max reemerged with the intruder. 

"Fame?" gasped Violet. "How did you get in here?"

"Of course you've forgotten." Bitterness colored the singer's tone. "You gave me a key once. Long ago."

"I remember," said Violet, her tone soft. "I just didn't think it mattered enough to you to keep it. I'm sorry."

"What?" the chanteuse seemed taken aback.

"I'm sorry," the brunette repeated. "These two fine detectives explained things to me. I'm sorry. I thought you left me and had something to do with Pearl's disappearance. And this whole time you thought I set you up. I didn't and I'm sorry you thought that I did."

Fame looked back and looked back and forth between them. "I don't know if I believe you," the dominatrix said finally. 

"That seems to be the theme of the day," the brunette bombshell sighed resignedly. "What are you even doing here?" she asked.

"After these two came to see me, I figured I would find out what you were really up to. I found something very concerning." She held up a racy photo of her former lover, wearing only a sparkling crown and a smile. "What have you done, Vi?" Fame's voice and hands were shaking, whether from fear or rage they couldn't tell. 

"Pearl gave me that!" said the burlesque performer defensively. "You have no right to be digging through my things!"

"Where is that crown?" Fame's tone was grave and her gaze intense. Violet didn't wilt under the heat of the dominatrix's glare.

"It's none of your business," she spat. The dominatrix slapped the girl across the face before anyone could react. Violet struck back and soon a full-on fight erupted between the former lovers. 

"Hey! None of that!" Katya shouted as she grabbed hold of the blonde and Max pulled the brunette away. Fame struggled in the Russian's grip but Violet let Max lead her away. Now on separate corners, Katya felt it was time to get to the bottom of this. 

"What's so important about that crown?" Katya asked.

The chanteuse's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's mob boss Sharon Needles' missing crown! He's offered a $100,000 reward to the person who brings it back and another $100,000 if they bring him the thief!" she was practically hysterical by now. "This picture is incriminating and not just because you're naked. This picture will get you killed, Vi! And you just have it lying around!"

Violet seemed unfazed by this. "How do you know that?" All eyes turned to Fame, who proved to be less unflappable than her former lover.

"I... I just do," she tried to deflect. 

"I don't believe you." Violet drew out her words, practically spitting them in the singer's face. "How do you know about this?"

"I tried to warn you away from him, Vi. He's bad news and he's going to get you killed." Fame shook her head sadly. 

"How do you know about Pearl? How do you know who he really is?" The brunette kept her tone impressively even. 

"Because I made Pearl. I never expected you to get involved," the dominatrix replied tightly. "I never wanted you to."

"You made Pearl?" Max chimed in. "How do you mean?" 

"As I've told you, Pearl Liaison is really Matt James Lent. There are a few reasons why people want to create a second identity and none of them are good." The chanteuse shifted uncomfortably. 

"Who is Mister Lent?" Katya asked. The two other women turned to her in disbelief. She took some comfort in the fact that Max looked as lost as she was.

"The trophy husband of Needles' top hitman." Fame swallowed. "He's much younger than his husband and he wanted a way to escape his gilded cage sometimes. His husband had taken him to see me sing before I was at the Kit Kat Club. He claimed a fascination with me and begged to be allowed to come see me in my hotel room. What he really wanted wasn't something my regulars usually did. He wanted to learn how to pass as a woman so he could slip away for a time. I pitied him and helped him. I never expected him to come to one of my shows and steal my lover from me. No good deed goes unpunished in this life." Fame was looking unashamedly at Violet.

The girl had a look of dull hurt on her face. "He never told me..." 

"He probably never would have but he liked you. He wanted you. Imagine your surprise reaching into her pants and finding something extra down there." Fame laughed darkly. "You're not even denying it. You know I'm right about him. I tried to warn you and you repaid me by costing me my job."

"I didn't! Pearl might have though..." She looked remorseful. "I know you don't want my apologies but I'll say them anyway. I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you."

"Save your breath. The real question here is where is that crown?" Fame spat.

"I don't know." 

"How can you not know? You must know!" Fame demanded. 

"Pearl has it. Or did at least. That photograph was taken in his bed," Violet rejoined. 

"Wait," Katya interjected. "You were naked in his bed and you didn't know he was a man?"

"Just because I was naked doesn't mean he was. There are a great many bedroom arts, detective. Someone ought to show you sometime," she purred seductively, clearly mocking the Russian rather than offering. "There are a great many things I could show a lot of people." Her now heated gaze shifted over to Max and Fame. Max shifted and Fame glared at her. 

"You complete slut! And you wonder why no man wants to marry you!" spat Fame, disgusted.

"You take that back! You never said that when you were the one fucking me!" Violet was one second from launching herself at her old flame when Katya intervened. 

"I think it's time I escorted Miss Fame home and asked her some questions," Katya declared. "Max is going to stay here and investigate further." She handed him the forensics kit. Quietly, she whispered, "Be careful," before patting him on the shoulder and escorting the singing dominatrix out. 

They caught a cab to the other side of the city where Fame worked. "I hope you don't mind heading to The Cosmo. We can just pretend you're paying me for my time," the dominatrix purred. 

The Russian turned to her traveling companion. "You're still in love with her." It was a statement, not a question but the dominatrix still answered it like one.

"Of course I am. You've met her. She's one-of-a-kind. She's so strong and confident and compelling. But she's also incredibly dangerous. I hope you know what you're doing, leaving that poor, sweet partner of yours in the lion's den. She'll eat him alive." Fame had pulled out a compact mirror to refresh her powder. "Why did you take her case if you don't believe her?"

"I didn't believe her but I believed her $2,000. I don't believe she's as innocent in all this as she would like us to believe. She doesn't trust me much either. But she seems to respond well to my partner. Maybe he'll learn from her we something we can't." The Russian lit a cigarette. "Like where that crown really is."

"I have a feeling the only thing he'll learn from her is how you should never mix business and pleasure." The dominatrix sighed. "You and I know that. This world preys on the young and innocent like him. Violet was like that once but she's changed. I stand by what I told you before, detective, she's probably in over her head and she's hoping you two will get her out of it. Whatever business 'Pearl Liaison' has got her wrapped up in, the worst is yet to come. Mark my words," she said ominously.

~*~*~*~*~*~

After the departure of the two blondes, the burlesque performer relaxed visibly. "Are you alright, Miss Violet?"

"I will be. Seeing Fame again like that wasn't what I expected." She took a deep breath. "Can I offer you a drink, Detective Malanaphy?"

"Max," he corrected her. "I can't say I would mind one." He smiled kindly at the dame. 

A small smile formed on her lips. "I'm afraid I've only got bourbon at the moment but there is ice at least."

"Let me help with that," he offered. 

"Thank you, Max." She smiled once again, kindly, but a little sadly. She brought over a glass decanter full of richly-colored bourbon and two matching etched glasses. Max popped the freshly chipped ice into the glasses and she poured the bourbon. "I'm afraid I can't take credit for selecting the vintage. It's a fairly decent one though."

"I don't mind," he replied. He was certain she was implying a lover had given it to her. Another of her lovers, no doubt, that she strung along, hurting them before they could hurt her, knowing that they were only after one thing and she would be of limited use to them once they'd gotten what they wanted. No wonder she played the heartbreaker. He very much doubted that any of them had ever truly cared for the beautiful girl. 

She lifted her glass to him before drawing it to her plush lips and taking a hearty sip. "I'll fetch that note your partner doesn't believe exists. I'll just be a moment." 

It took her no time at all to snatch the note from her bedside table and hand it to the detective as she sat next to him on her elegant pink velvet couch. Carefully he read it over and she watched his expression as he did so. The note was worn from multiple readings and Violet could now recite the words on it by heart.

'My Dearest Violet,  
Something unexpected has come up and though it pains me, I'm afraid I won't be able to make it tonight. I'll see you at your next show, pumpkin. I'll even take you out for a nice dinner to make it up to you. Until then.  
All my love, P.' 

The words certainly didn't sound like Pearl intended to leave her for so long. No wonder she was worried that something might have happened and what a shock it must have been to find out that her lover had been so incredibly dishonest with her.

"You believe Miss Fame's story that Miss Pearl isn't really who you thought she was?" the young Englishman inquired gently as he set the paper aside.

"It makes sense. She would never let me touch her intimately but she loved to do things to me. She always had an excuse why she wouldn't bare herself to me. She wouldn't come on nights the mob was in attendance either. I just figured she was afraid of them. Any sane person should be. And I knew she didn't live alone. Her place was far too nice and spacious for that. I figured she was escaping something, but aren't we all?" Violet took another sip of her drink. 

"I suppose that's true," agreed Max.

"What are you escaping, Max? I never expected to find someone like you in a city like this." She looked him in the eye as she said it. 

"Someone like me?" he asked.

"Someone so optimistic and kind," she elaborated. "I didn't think there were still people like that in this city. This place has a way of changing a person. But not you, I don't think. I daresay you're the kindest person I've ever met."

"I imagine we're not so different, Miss Violet. I came here to live life on my own terms," he answered. 

"An admirable pursuit, detective. One I can relate to. But what brought you here, so far from home?" she asked, genuinely intrigued.

"Home is wherever I am." 

"And right now, you're here with me," her voice was low and silky. 

"So I am." He paused. "How did you become a burlesque performer? That was what you were doing for the past twelve hours?"

She laughed softly. "Alright, I'll humor you. Yes, I was learning new routines and then trying them out on customers. I've always admired the women who do burlesque. I know you're not supposed to but I don't give a fig for what other people think. They were so sexy and confident and sure of themselves and I wanted to be one of them. My family didn't encourage this but they didn't exactly discourage it either. The moment I turned 18 I left home and never looked back. I've been here ever since. That was five years ago..." She trailed off wistfully.

"You're 23?" he asked.

"Why, detective! It's very rude to ask a woman her age," she reprimanded him, mock offended. 

"Forgive me," he said, a small smile playing about his lips.

"It's perfectly alright. Am I older or younger than you thought me?" she asked coyly. 

"It's not that. I'm also 23," the young man said.

"Not so different, like you said. Although detective work is far cry more admirable than what I do in society's eyes," she purred.

Max couldn't help but let his eyes wander over her. "Who gives a fig what society thinks? I became a detective because I wanted to live my own life, doing what I liked best. You did the same thing," he reminded her.

She laughed softly. "Taking my clothes off is hardly making the world a better place like you helping people does. You're like an avenging angel, sculpted by one of the great masters, here to save sinners and bring forth a more righteous world."

His eyes caught hers. "What makes you think I'm such an angel?"

"Always rushing to my rescue, quick to offer me your handkerchief or your shoulder to cry on. I have to say, Max, I'm not used to that- having my own personal guardian angel." she admitted.

"That doesn't make me an angel. I don't save people's souls." He swept a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. 

Her rich laugh rang out in the small space. "You really think you could save the soul of a woman like me if you tried, detective?" 

"I don't think you need saving," he stated. "I think you're so brave and so strong."

"Sweet words," she smiled. 

"Sweets for the sweet," he quoted. 

"Hamlet," she said, recognizing the words.

"Of course. I'm pleased you recognized it." 

She laughed. "Didn't expect me to be educated, did you?"

"I don't expect you to be anything but your captivating and lovely self," he said smoothly. 

"You're too kind. I wish there was someway I could repay you..." She trailed off suggestively, uncrossing her legs.

"Don't offer yourself to me out of obligation or repayment. You owe me nothing," he said sternly, but his eyes never left her body. 

"Always such an angel, my dear Max. And if I'm offering myself to you because I want to? We are both free individuals after all." She let the question hang heavy in the increasingly smaller space between them.

"Well then, I suppose... even angels can fall." He claimed her mouth and found her lips pliant and inviting, parted in desire. She moaned softly at his touch and they eagerly embraced each other, hands mapping out the other's body. They broke their kiss for a moment to draw a breath and share a look of wonder before joining their lips together again. It wasn't a battle for a dominance they might have expected it to be. Instead, they explored the novelty of this moment together. 

His hands drifted down to the button at her throat and tentatively unclasped it. Their lips drew apart marginally, hovering close, as he continued to work his way down her sweater and then onto her blouse. She looked up at him, lips parted, basking in the reverence he showed her body as he savored revealing it, inch by tantalizing inch. He was in no rush and she found the anticipation exciting and unexpected. 

Her delicate fingers worked up to his collar and she slid her hands under his coat, prompting him to pause and removed it, his eyes never leaving hers. Her hands drifted down to his collarbone and chest as he moved and she relished the feeling of those taut muscles and sharp bones underneath the cloth. He removed the open sweater and blouse, baring her shoulders and leaving her in a beautiful lacy black brassiere and matching corset. 

She grabbed a firm hold on his tie and reeled him close to kiss him as she undid the knot at his throat. Thus undone, she used the tie to keep him close as he caressed under her skirt, tracing the garters on her thighs. She gasped softly as his caresses grew bolder and rushed to undo his shirt buttons. In her haste, she got one caught and he took her fingers in his hands and placed them on his shoulders as he undid the rest of his buttons. Kissing her all the while, he shrugged out of his shirt, breaking away only to remove his undershirt. 

She looked at him in awe, daring to reach out and touch that creamy skin and lean muscle before her. He was watching her, clearly enjoying the attention she showed his body. His eyes locked on hers, he bent down and removed his shoes, sock garters and socks, before starting on her high heels, pressing kisses to the stocking-covered skin below her knees. She reached to the side to undo the zipper in her skirt and he lifted her up to take the garment out from under her. She lay back to let him get a good look at her as he removed his trousers and let her get a clue about exactly what she was doing to him.

She looked stunning, all laid out for him, wearing just her underthings. The brassiere, corset, panties and garter belt were a matching set of delicate black lace and sleek satin, coordinating nicely with her shiny sable hair. The black stockings on her legs looked lovely and he couldn't wait to see how she looked without all of that on. 

Her corset was the first to go as he unhooked it several at a time and pressed kisses to the newly bare skin. She laughed softly as he kissed her belly and slid his hands down her thighs to undo the part where the garters attached to her thigh high stockings. Once the closures were undone, she put a shapely leg on his shoulder as he worked the stocking covering the other leg down, careful not to put any runs in it. He repeated the process on the other side. 

He moved to take off her garter belt and he could smell her arousal, spurring him to pick up the pace. Once her belt was off, she made sure he was watching as she removed her brassiere, baring her breasts to him. He inhaled in wonder as he gazed hungrily at her.

"May I?" he asked breathily. 

"Of course," she replied, savoring the reverence this boy held for her and her body. His touch was gentle as he grabbed her breasts, squeezing them lightly before swiping his thumbs over her pert nipples as her breath came out in soft little pants and moans. While he lathed attention on one nipple with fingers, his mouth came down to latch onto her other one. She squirmed and arched into his touch, pressing her legs together, as he switched sides. He was enjoying playing with her nipples, drawing them up to erect, sensitive points of pleasure. She let out a particularly loud moan and he removed his mouth from her.

He smiled unrepentantly up at her, knowing exactly how on edge she was because of him. She seized him for a rough kiss. She was growing desperate for him. "Take me to bed. Please," she breathed out. He kissed her tenderly.

"As you wish," he replied heatedly as he picked her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his lower back. The movement brought her needy core against his burning heat and they both groaned at the incidental contact. He carried her to her bed, cradling her close to him and relishing his grip on her round ass. They kissed sloppily, both eager to proceed. 

He laid her down gently on the bed and swept her hair to lay elegantly out of the way before kissing down her body. Kisses at her neck made her shiver. Kisses on her side made her laugh. Kisses on her thighs made her moan in anticipation. 

"May I taste you?" he asked.

"Taste me?" she looked down at him wide-eyed. 

His slender forefinger traced the edge of her panties. "Yes, my dear. Taste you." The way he said the words brought a fresh wave of arousal and she nodded her assent. He slid her panties down her thighs and off her legs. A sudden shyness overcame her and she pressed her thighs together. Ever so gently he coaxed her to open them again with soft touches and gentle kisses. Gradually, she revealed herself to his gaze and awaited his verdict.

"Beautiful," he whispered. "Absolutely beautiful." He drew a finger up her lower folds and brought her slickness up to his mouth to taste. "You're so deliciously wet for me already," he said in awe. "I want to make this so good for you." Carefully he spread her outer lips to get a good look at her. He drew nearer and his tongue began to trace her inner folds before licking a stripe from her entrance up to her apex. She gasped as his tongue stroked up her clitoris. The sensations that simple action sent through her were intense. Involuntarily her hands clutched at the blankets beneath them as her muscles tightened. 

She was very glad he held her hips down because she jerked at his next lick. He maintained his firm hold on her as he applied his tongue to her swollen nub, bathing it with his attentions as she began to thrash wildly. It was too intense and she tried to move away but his hands kept her anchored as he was determined to bring her over the edge. She could feel herself getting close, all the tension in her body looking for a release. 

She couldn't even find words to express her need but he seemed to know as he kept the pressure on her and kept moving his tongue in minute, measured strokes designed to tantalize her. It worked very effectively. She cried out as she released, all her muscles tightening impossibly before going slack and she fell limply back onto the bed. She was panting and her eyes were blown wide. She looked delightfully debauched and he savored the sight of her like this. 

He would have guessed that no one who had ever taken her to bed had ever cared for her pleasure and he would have been right. She'd never come solely from a man's tongue before and the new experience had left her floating. He rubbed at his own sensitive slit and began to slowly stroke his rigid length as she came back to herself and her breathing evened out. 

"Oh my god..." she exhaled. 

"Ready for more?" he asked, his voice low with desire.

"Oh god yes!" She shifted to open her legs wide to him as he crawled over her. She tangled one hand in his hair and let the other rest on his chest as he began to position himself. He pressed his lips to hers and she eagerly opened her mouth as he slipped his tongue in. She tasted something she wasn't used to in his mouth, and she could only assume that was what she tasted like down there. It was so intimate to share something like that and she moaned at the thought.

He withdrew his tongue and balanced himself on one hand as his other reached between them to guide himself to enter her. She kissed the corner of his mouth as he lined himself up with her entrance. 

"Ready?" he asked her. 

"Give it to me," she purred. Gently, he began to press inside, monitoring her face for signs of discomfort but finding only pleasure. She gripped him tighter as her inner walls accommodated his penetrating length. He slipped himself into her slick heat and moaned at the feeling at being seated within her. He was a bit broader than she was used to and the slight stretch felt incredible. Her mouth fell open with the sensation of it. She looked up at him in wonder, her mind unable to fully process everything she was feeling.

Cautiously, he began to thrust shallowly, paying close attention to her reactions. Soft sighs and loud breathing was all he heard as he began to thrust in earnest now. She opened her legs wider to welcome his thrusts into her. Soon she was whimpering form his motions. He varied his movements and she loved every sensation it brought her. She felt so good around him he hated to withdraw from her even for a second. She looked so glorious under him it made him wonder what she'd looked like bouncing above him.

"Want to ride me?" he whispered in her ear. Her eyes sprung wide at the request.  
"I'd love to," she said breathily. He pulled out of her, both of them whining at the loss as he got on his back and she moved to straddle him. He guided her to sink down on his cock and they both groaned at the new position. 

She braced herself against the headboard as she worked up a rhythm. He held himself steady to prevent himself from sliding out of her as he timed the thrusts of his hips to coordinate with her downward movement, pushing him deep inside her. Her breasts bounced attractively with her movements. His hands wandered up to squeeze those tempting globes before settling on her hips. The sensations of taking him inside her like this were tremendous and she had to take a moment to sit with him seated fully inside her. She clenched her inner muscles and rotated her hips, drawing a pleasured moan from him. She leaned forward to kiss him, their hands coming to hold the other's cheeks, savoring the moment and looking deep into the other's eyes. 

"Will you take me from behind?" she asked.

"I'd rather look at you when I come," he confessed.

She laughed softly. "Just turn me back over when you get close," she suggested.

"Alright. Get on your knees." He pressed a kiss to her lips before she complied.

Almost reverently he ran a hand down her perfect curves before reentering her. He pushed his body flush to hers and thrust into her, his hands gripping her small waist. The shallow penetration was more intense because of the angle and soon the two were close to finishing. They were panting and his movements grew erratic. He kept thrusting and she whimpered, her core tightening.

"Turn over, baby," he said. She moved quickly, laying back as he reentered her. His fingers reached between their bodies as he began to rub her bud. Their eyes locked and they exchanged looks of passion. She was so close, she didn't need much stimulation before she was coming, her body jerking uncontrollably and tightening around him as he lost himself within her as he watched her give in to the sensations, spending as they both cried out their pleasure. They collapsed onto the bed next to each other as they caught their breath. After a moment, she moved closer to him and his arms wrapped around her, holding her safe and secure to his body. They looked at each other in awe and satisfaction. 

He kissed her. "That was amazing." He kissed her again. "You deserve to be worshiped. You're worth falling for." She returned his kisses, unsure what to say. She was tired and sated and by the look of things, so was he. It was late and the world outside would was a dangerous place. She'd much rather he stay here with her in their happy little moment. 

"Won't you stay here with me?" she asked nervously. He brushed the hair from her face and pressed a kiss to her brow. 

"Of course." She smiled and pulled the covers down so they could get into bed. Once they were, she snuggled closer to him. He welcomed her into his arms and they fell asleep wrapped around each other, the outside world forgotten.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Max woke up sometime later, feeling sore and sated in all the best ways. Violet was still fast asleep. She may have thought him the angel between the two of them but right here in this moment, she was the one who looked angelic, a halo of dark hair about her peaceful face, looking as innocent as a newborn babe. She was stunning and Max took a moment to admire this softer side of the dame before looking around the room for a clock. Almost 4am. Only a few more hours until he was due into the office. Katya and Trixie would never forgive him if he showed up in the same clothes as the day before after being left to investigate a client. 

But Violet had asked him to stay with her. He watched the rise and fall of her chest as she slept, the room illuminated only by the lights of the city outside. It felt wrong somehow to leave her like this. He tidied himself and redressed silently. He hadn't even done any forensic testing on the note and he didn't want to wake Violet to ask her if he could borrow it for a while. Weighing his options, he decided to leave the note and the forensics case there, figuring Katya would want to see it for herself. 

He searched the apartment for something to leave her a note on. Next to the phone he found paper and a pen and wrote:

'To my lovely Violet,  
It is truly unangelic of me to leave in the middle of the night and let you wake up alone but I'm afraid Katya will have my head if I show up to the office in yesterday's clothes. I'll see you again soon.  
Best regards, Max'

He placed the note on the pillow and tucked her in, pressing a featherlight kiss to her forehead before departing. The street was empty and it had rained overnight. Max was too caught up in thoughts of the previous night to pay much attention to his surroundings. It was too late to catch a cab so he'd have to walk home. 

All of the sudden the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and a half second later, something heavy crashed into his skull. He fell to the ground and his vision blurred, his head reeling from the impact. A man stood over him. 

"You should know better than to sleep with Violet Chachki," he said. He struck a second blow across Max's face and the world went dark.


	3. A Star is Born - The Prequel - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Fame and Violet’s relationship is really important to the next couple chapters of Curious Case so I figured I would expand on their back story. It’s intended to be read after chapter 2, once you’ve become acquainted with Fame and Violet’s characters. Chronologically, the story spans the five years beginning with when Violet first came to the city and covers until the time frame of the main story.

Every proper city has nightlife where the young and beautiful can be found selling a wide array of delights to the rich and powerful. In an era like this, where everyone wanted to forget, both seedy and reputable establishments catering to this demand flourished. Some, like The Kit Kat Club, straddled the line between, hoping to entice a broader customer base. As a result, a curious mix of performers took to its stage each night to entertain the even more curious mix of patrons.

On this particular night, a pair of beautiful women sat in the club’s dressing room, painstakingly adjusting their makeup, a seeming calm about them that the rest of the crowded dressing room lacked. They were the stars and they did not fear losing their places in the club’s ever changing lineup. Eleven performers currently shared the space and a twelfth was imminently expected to arrive. 

“Are you excited to meet the new girl, Fame?” asked Raja as she powdered her face. She was elegant and exotic, with an undeniable poise about her. She was a skilled performer, sure of her strengths and her beauty. She believed her eye for talent to be exceptional and there were precious few who disagreed.

Miss Fame laughed. The woman was a singer, and she possessed an ethereal beauty that did nothing to suggest that she had grown up humbly on an isolated chicken farm before coming to the city. She prided herself on her impeccable makeup skills and had a great appreciation for beauty and fashion.  
“Not really. She’s probably some gangster’s pretty girlfriend with dreams of becoming a star.” 

Raja snorted. “Like that’s ever going to happen. All those kinds of girls ever get is some sweaty man who finishes in two minutes and leaves her flat when she shows up with his kid. Bet you a drink that she’s pretty but not talented.”

Fame laughed. “You’re probably right, Raj. Poor thing. Bet she’s from some tiny little town and she thinks this is her big break.”

Raja snorted. “Like the Kit Kat Club ever gave anyone their big break. You’re more likely to break out in a rash than break through here.” 

“Ew gross, Raja. This place is pretty clean!” exclaimed Fame.

“I wasn’t referring to that kind of rash. This place may be clean but it’s patrons sure aren’t!” she cackled.

Fame scoffed and didn’t dignify that with an answer. She knew it was true after all. Fame began to softly sing some scales as she finished touching up her make up. The droll tones of the club manager drifted towards them. He was clearly showing the new girl around. Raja tapped her friend’s elbow and they turned to look. 

The new girl wasn’t just pretty, she was drop dead gorgeous. Her most striking feature was her tiny waist, accentuated nicely by the simple but well made dress she wore. She was tall and slender, with soft creamy skin that seemed to glow. She had luscious wavy black hair that looked soft and silken and framed her pretty face. She had good bone structure, Fame noted, with high cheekbones and she did her make up well. She wore a tempting crimson lipstick that perfectly emphasized her lovely bow-shaped mouth. She held a costume over her dainty wrist, something no doubt just given to her by management. 

The manager himself directed her to the vanity in the corner that he was assigning to her and introduced her to each of the other performers. Miss Fame was so preoccupied with ogling the new girl that she missed hearing her name. She was so fresh-faced, young and innocent that the chanteuse was certain the city would eat her alive. Poor thing. All of them had been like her once but times were tough and the world cared little for a pretty face. Fame almost felt sorry for the girl. It wouldn’t take long before she was as beaten down as the rest of them, doing what they had to in order to make it in the world. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you!” the ingénue said, a small smile gracing her plush lips. Her voice was sultry and her tone low and silky. “I look forward to working with you all.”

As soon as the manager left, it began. “I hope you’re not planning to get settled in. You won’t last long here,” Raja remarked cattily. “You should save yourself the trouble and just go back to whatever half-rate mobster whose dick you obviously sucked to get a tryout here. I’m sure your sugar daddy won’t mind you shacking up with him if you aren’t already. Some of us have to work for a living, sweet cakes.” Raja gave her the once over.

The girl turned scarlet, clearly enraged at the star performer’s implications. “I worked hard on my own to get here. I don’t need to rely on anyone. And I certainly am capable of supporting myself!” 

“Don’t come crying to me when this job turns out harder than it looks, baby doll. To make it here you need real talent,” Raja smirked, clearly pleased that the new girl was rising to her bait.

“You’re just intimated by me. You should be,” seethed the ingénue. “Before this year is out, I’ll have your job and you’ll be working in some sorry ass diner serving cherry pie to teenagers.” She huffed and retreated to her assigned vanity, hastening to get ready.

Raja scoffed and looked around to the other dumbstruck performers who hadn’t moved a muscle, glued to the spectacle. “Can you believe the nerve of some people?” No one answered as they all slowly resumed their preparations. A member of the crew came to fetch Raja as she was opening the show. “I’ll get them all warmed up for you, sweetheart. Maybe they’ll feel generous after that. Give you a pity tip. But I doubt it.” Her laugh echoed as she made her way to the stage. 

The new girl ignored it, focusing on her own preparations. Fame approached her cautiously, hoping to smooth the waters and learn the girl’s name. “I’m sorry about Raja,” she began but the ingénue cut her off.

“Why are you apologizing for her? All she did was remind me that I’m not here to make friends.” Fame flinched at her harsh words. The girl didn’t even turn from her mirror. Raja’s cutting words clearly had their intended effect of not making the girl feel welcome. Mentally, the singer cursed her friend’s rash actions. The girl was intimidating but she intrigued Fame and Raja might have ruined her chances to get to know this beauty better. She sighed and returned to her own makeup. 

A round of applause indicated that Raja had concluded her performance and the star returned backstage. Loudly, she patted herself on the back, no doubt to irritate the new girl. She seemed to pay the performer no mind, absorbed in her own preparations. Raja’s remarks grew more and more pointed that it was a relief when someone came to tell the ingénue to wait in the wings because she was next. 

Raja watched her leave. “Come on, let’s go watch her mess up!” she cackled gleefully.

“Aren’t you being a bit unfair, Raj? You haven’t even seen her do anything. What if she’s actually good?” Fame suggested mildly. 

Raja just snorted in response. “She couldn’t possibly be. They just hired her because she is very pretty. I’ll give her that much.” They had reached the wings. The ingénue’s performance was already in progress. She had them all captivated. No one moved a muscle and every eye in the place was glued to her fine form as she shimmied and stripped and performed. A gasp fell involuntarily from Fame’s lips. The new girl was more than just good. She was incredible. She was a natural performer, full of a confidence that Raja hadn’t managed to shake, and able to hold the room captive as she entertained them effortlessly. That sort of thing just couldn’t be taught. Perhaps she’d taken it too far, but maybe Raja was right to be intimidated by the girl.

When her burlesque performance finally ended, the club stood and cheered and showered her in tips. Three entire buckets were soon filled to almost overflowing. Even on their best nights, the two observers backstage combined hadn’t made that much in tips. The girl bowed one last time to the audience before returning backstage where she found the dumbstruck pair. She addressed Raja. “Oh don’t worry darling, I’m sure your sugar daddy wouldn’t mind you shacking up with him… Oh wait, you probably aren’t pretty enough to have one. Sorry!” She walked away without another word, knowing she had won this one.

“That fucking bitch!” snarled Raja. “Fuck you, Violet Chachki!” she called after the girl, uncaring who heard. 

So that was her name. Violet Chachki. Fame was sure she wouldn’t forget that now. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

It came as no surprise to Fame or to any of the other performers that Violet made good on her threat to take Raja’s job before the year was out. In fact, it took only four weeks before the management had found their catfighting intolerable and asked Raja to find employment elsewhere. Miss Chachki was making them a lot of money so of course they wanted to keep her. Even after Raja’s departure, she retained her frosty air, making no attempt to get to know any of the other performers. She would listen if spoken to but responded little so soon the others stopped trying to get to know her. Not Fame though. The young girl still intrigued her and the singer was determined to get to know her better. Her aloofness remained however and Fame took it as a personal challenge. An entire year passed before they saw the first crack in her cold persona. 

Seeing how Violet was backstage, Fame and the other club performers were shocked to discover one day that the ice queen was seeing a man. She was very sexy of course but this man wasn’t conventionally attractive. He was balding and arrogant and had a grating laugh. He did, however, dress well and his well-tailored suit suggested a toned physique underneath. He was quite tall and had huge hands that unsettled Fame whenever she saw them on Violet’s delicate body. He looked as if he could break her if he had a mind to do so and the way he looked at the burlesque performer made the singer very uncomfortable. He was mentally undressing her and imagining all the ways he could have his way with her. He was also incredibly possessive of her, which was ironic because he clearly knew what she did for a living. The guy gave the chanteuse the creeps. Fame couldn’t stand it anymore.

She finally brought her concerns to the ingénue, only to have her laugh them off. “You don’t know Santino at all, Fame. He’s a genius and he’s courting me properly and hasn’t done anything untoward. Even if he had, I’m capable of taking care of myself.” Violet was unperturbed. 

“He’s going to use you, Violet, just you watch. Men like him are only after one thing and they’ll go to great lengths to get it,” Fame cautioned. 

Violet smiled cruelly. “Jealousy is a very ugly look on you, Miss Fame.” The young girl turned back to her mirror to finish removing her makeup and left Fame floundering for words before the singer packed up and stormed out. Fine. Let the girl make her own mistakes. She could take care of herself. She obviously didn’t need Fame. She knew everything already. Fame huffed as she made it outside the club. 

A pretty boy was standing nearby, staring at her open mouthed. “Excuse me, but are you Miss Fame?” he asked timidly. His voice was soft and feminine and he had a lovely smile. He appeared to be a soldier, recently returned by the look of it. 

She put on a winning smile. “I am. Who might you be, gorgeous?” The boy laughed softly.

“You can call me April. I heard you sing tonight. You’ve got a wonderful voice and I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He was blushing now as the words left his lips. The chanteuse found him adorable. “I hate to be so forward but it’s my last night here in the city and I was wondering if you’d like to go to the Hotel Cosmo with me?”

The singer had heard of the establishment before. It was an open secret that you could either rent a room discreetly there or tell a particular password to the front desk to find someone to spend the night with. All tastes and desires were catered to if you knew the right words and carried enough cash. The cops largely left the place alone unless a particularly wanted suspect was there. The singer didn’t object to the place. She knew that people did what they had to do to survive. “I confess I’ve never been there before. But I wouldn’t mind,” she said suggestively, holding out her hand to the soldier. He took it gentlemanly and placed it around his arm as he escorted her to the corner so they could hail a cab. 

“I find that surprising. You have a naturally dominant air about you. In a city like this, you could do worse things to make some extra money. You wouldn’t even have to sleep with anyone if you didn’t want to…” His voice trailed off suggestively.

“And if I wanted to?” she purred.

“Well, I wouldn’t object,” he said.

~*~*~*~*~*

As it turned out, April was right. She did have a natural air about her that made others want to submit to her will. The soldier brought out a side of her she had never explored before and it thrilled her. They spent a pleasurable night together and afterwards he suggested she talk to the owner, Willam, and get herself established as a regular with a password and a set of rules. Fame did and found enormous freedom in her new side business, dominating paying customers eager for the chanteuse to make them feel something they weren’t getting elsewhere. She didn’t sleep with her customers though, preferring to save that for someone who really mattered to her.

Her work quickly became therapeutic for the new dominatrix, distracting her from the ongoing mystery that was Violet Chachki. The girl still carried on with her suitor, heedless of where that may lead. She seemed enthralled with the man and it frustrated Fame. She still couldn’t see what the girl did and hated that she couldn't see what Fame thought so obvious about him. The man was trouble and the burlesque performer just couldn’t see it. Instead, she flaunted the man before them, particularly the singer. It was maddening. Fame wished the girl would just listen to her before this all ended in tears. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

As much as Fame knew this would happen, it brought her no pleasure to actually see the girl hurt. They all knew something was the matter when she stormed in, spitting insults as she tried to hide the tears in her eyes, her lover conspicuously absent from her side. He had previously taken to escorting her in, his hands possessively low on her back, glaring at anyone who dared look twice at her. 

It pained Fame to see the lovely girl act like this, clearly trying to put up a defense because she didn’t want to appear weak in front of them. She’d taken Raja’s ‘lesson’ to heart and the one person she had let in had clearly hurt her, just as Fame predicted he would. Fame felt sorry for the girl. She’d done the same thing once and gotten the same result: nothing but heartache. 

Curiosity got the better of the singer and she stalled after the show was over, hoping for a chance to talk to the young woman alone. Luck was on her side as Violet was the only one left in the dressing room when she returned under the pretext of a missing glove, the others long gone. The burlesque performer was crying softly in the corner, unaware of Fame’s return. She cleared her throat, knowing full well that the girl would hate her for seeing her like this. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice still thick with tears, robbing her of the strength she no doubt had intended to convey. 

“Are you alright, Violet? I thought you could use a friend,” asked Fame gently.

The girl laughed bitterly. “I don’t have any of those.”

“Well, you could if you weren’t such a bitch all the time,” Fame retorted without thinking. The girl’s face fell and tears were already welling back up in her big brown eyes, bloodshot from crying already. “I didn’t mean that,” said Fame quickly, trying to take back her careless words. 

“No you did. And you’re right, I am a bitch. I get it,” she said resignedly, her shoulders dropping in defeat. 

“I don’t think you’re a bitch all the time. Sometimes you’re tolerable,” Fame said lightly, causing Violet to crack a small smile before sighing deeply. “What happened, Violet?”

The younger girl took a moment, weighing whether or not to confide in the singer before deciding to take the plunge. 

“I gave Santino my virginity and afterwards he told me he was going back to his wife, Michelle. I didn’t even know he was married. No one will ever want me now. I thought he was the one, Fame. I thought he loved me. But you were right, Fame. He was only after one thing and once he ruined me, I was worthless to him. I should have listened to you.” Her voice broke and tears fell rapidly, staining her perfect cheeks. Fame took her own handkerchief and dried the girl’s tears. Those big eyes looked up at her startled. 

“Oh, Miss Violet, I’m so sorry!” The chanteuse wrapped the girl in her arms. The young woman stiffened in her arms before relaxing and accepting the embrace, leaning into it and accepting Fame’s comfort. The singer rubbed her back in soothing circles as she gently rocked them. “This city is a cruel place, full of despicable people. They see someone as wonderful as you and they think only of how to use you- they don’t realize how amazing you really are.” The sweet young thing looked up at her from where she rested on her shoulder.

“You think I’m amazing? I thought I was a bitch?” Her voice was so uncertain it broke Fame’s heart.

“You can be both. But yes, I think you’re amazing. You’re so talented. Even on my best nights, I could never complete with you. You don’t know how grateful I am that you have better talents than singing.” The pair laughed softly. “But more than that, I admire your confidence. I think if someone had talked to me the way Raja did to you on your first day, I think I would have run home crying.” 

“I’ve faced a lot worse than that. My family, while not exactly unsupportive, just wanted me to live a ‘normal’ life. But I didn’t want that. I worked hard to get where I am and I won’t let anyone belittle me for my career path. I never had anyone to help me so I had to do it all on my own. I couldn’t ever rely on anyone else. I saw what I wanted and I went for it, spending all my time perfecting my art. That was all me. I never needed anyone else. All I’ve ever wanted was to live my life on my own terms like I do here.” Her eyes were shining again, some of her passion breaking through again.

“Sounds like you don’t need a man then. So why are you letting this one throw you off? You were doing plenty fine before he came along and you’ll do even better without him. I know it seems like everything changes when you give someone something that important, but in the long run it won’t matter any,” the singer advised.

“Thank you, Fame. Truly.” Violet was smiling now, and she looked radiant again. Fame couldn’t help but look at her with great affection. For the first time since she’d met the other girl, Fame noted that she was disheveled, her usually perfect appearance decimated by crying and from being held by the singer. Her clothes were rumpled and her makeup smeared. Her eyes were puffy and her nose still runny. Even her jewelry was twisted and not laying properly but in Fame’s opinion, Violet had never looked more beautiful. The chanteuse wanted nothing more than to take this lovely creature and hide her away from the world and treat her like princess as she deserved to be. She deserved to be loved and Fame wanted to be the one to show her that. 

Suddenly, she felt strange. Did she love Violet? Looking down at the beauty who was still laying against her side cozily, the singer decided she liked the way their bodies felt pressed up against each other. 

When she was younger and recently arrived to the city, the same thing that Violet just experienced had happened to her too and she vowed in that moment that she would never love another but somehow this frosty girl had found her way into her stone heart and brought something back to life. It scared the singer. It was dangerous to be in love in a place like this. Surely this was just an infatuation and it would pass.


	4. A Star Is Born - The Prequel - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight warning for brief blasphemous role play

Fame’s infatuation with Violet never did pass. As the years went on, it developed into an all consuming desire not helped by the never ending string of lovers Violet had. She wasn’t intentionally parading them in front of the singer, but it felt that way. Fame had never found the way to properly express her feelings to the younger girl and so she remained in this wretched purgatory of untamed desire and crippling jealousy. 

She took some small comfort in the fact that Violet clearly didn’t love any of the people she dated. She had taken the lesson of her exploitation to heart and instead began to be the one to break hearts. People wanted her and she knew it and in this unforgiving city, she used it to her advantage. Fame grudgingly admired the way she could get whatever she wanted with a few choice words and suggestive looks. In a way, it was little different than Fame’s own booming side business. She also only slept with the ones she wanted to and instead of getting money to buy the things she wanted, she just got what she wanted directly. 

Fame had taken the younger girl into her confidence and they often traded tips on how to get the best results as well as wild stories. Violet was wild and full of life now, living more than comfortably as more and more suitors vied for her attentions. Fame remembered each and every one of them. She recorded their rise and fall as Violet would not be tied down.

The first one after Santino was called Milk, and he was a tall, conventionally attractive artist whose works were by no means conventional. Even Fame had to admit that they made a striking pair, all long limbs and faces so beautiful heaven was probably missing a pair of angels. He painted a picture of her that all the local art critics, all three of them, raved about. Milk was invited to exhibit his work and he of course invited his muse along with him. She turned out to be even more popular than her portrait. Everyone wanted to get to know the beautiful girl from the painting. 

That included a handsome socialite known as Raven, who was instantly captivated by the girl. The man possessed a sharp tongue, not unlike Violet herself, and dressed impeccably. His own frosty air defrosted a bit around her. Same went for her. They suited each other perfectly in that way. They had undeniable chemistry, which was unfortunate for her poor artist as he had not the means to spoil her as the socialite did.

Soon Raven took her to the finest stores and bought her elegant clothes that enhanced her natural beauty and draped her in jewels carefully selected to match her look and style. The man had great taste after all, and Violet did seem quite fond of him but when the burlesque performer revealed to her confidant one night as they got ready to perform that the man was engaged and soon to marry, Fame protested emphatically. 

“You can’t do that, Violet! You deserve better than to be some man’s side piece! You have to break things off!” Fame exclaimed but her pleas might as well have fallen on deaf ears. Unperturbed as always in the face of the singer’s protests about her love life, the younger girl merely scoffed.

“I can do whatever I like. I’m not going to stay his mistress when he marries but there’s nothing wrong with passing the time in pleasurable company until the time comes. I kind of like him. He buys me nice things and looks great naked- I can’t really ask for more now, can I?”

Fame let out a noise of shock at the revelation that Violet was sharing the man’s bed. “Violet!”

“What? Neither of us were pure and innocent going into this. I don’t see the harm. And besides you’re one to talk, Mistress Fame,” she taunted, smirking and unrepentant. The little brat even stuck her tongue out. 

“Careful now or I’ll turn you over my knee and spank you right here, see that I won’t!” the dominatrix cried, playfully indignant. 

“I bet you’d like that,” laughed the sultry performer. “Maybe next time, Mistress,” she teased as she departed to take the stage for her number. Fame groaned internally. If only Violet knew the affect her words had. The dominatrix’s heart ached. The girl had given no indication that she’d ever welcome the advances of someone of the same sex and Fame had no idea how to broach the topic with the burlesque performer without revealing her feelings for the younger girl. Besides, she was still seeing Raven, even if she insisted it was just until he married. Fame was in deep trouble with this girl.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

As it turned out, Violet and Raven parted terms amiably on the eve of his upcoming nuptials and he had given her a stunning set of a diamond studded choker with a matching pair of tiered chandelier earrings as a parting gift. They looked absolutely beautiful on the young girl, catching the light and illuminating her supple skin. He must have truly cared about the girl in at least some way to have given her such a precious gift. No wonder Violet still talked fondly about him on occasion. She even showed Fame the photos of his wedding in the society pages, commenting how hot he looked standing next to his new wife, Jujubee.

The next man Violet dated was very different from what Fame had pegged as Violet’s type. One night the burlesque performer had come in giggling of all things. Fame and the other performers stared in shock as the normally aloof and frigid star hummed to herself as she got ready. Even Fame, who had seen a much warmer side than most people ever saw of Violet Chachki, was baffled. 

“You’re chipper tonight, Miss Violet,” ventured Jinkx Monsoon, one of the club’s comedians. “Rumor has it you were at the Beyond Belief Cabaret earlier. Any truth to that?” The pretty redhead may have suffered from narcolepsy, or the sleeping sickness as it was commonly called these days, but she missed little. 

“Who told you that?” The burlesque performer had a wry smile fixed on her face as she turned to face Jinkx. “It wouldn’t have been Mrs. Winters now would it?” she suggested over-casually, obviously knowing the answer. Jinkx predictably turned scarlet at the name. Mrs. Ivy Winters, Beyond Belief Cabaret’s resident circus performer, and her illicit love affair with their own Miss Jinkxy was a hot topic for gossip amongst the two venues' performers but the love birds were completely oblivious. Adulterous or not, the pair were quite cute together and their fellow performers were secretly rooting for them. 

“Don’t be unkind, Violet,” chided Fame gently. 

“I wasn’t. I was just asking,” the younger girl said innocently. 

“So you were at Beyond Belief?” Bianca Del Rio, the club’s other comedian asked pointedly. Bianca was an insult comic and absolutely nothing escaped her. She was one of the older performers hired by the club and she paid her dues and thus commanded considerable respect. The woman had a low, gravelly voice and a sharp tongue that could match Violet’s. Oddly enough, the two got along pretty well. Fame wouldn’t call them friends but they tolerated each other fairly amiably.  
Violet smiled teasingly. “So what if I was? What’s it to you, mama?” 

“I’m not your mama, my name is Bianca,” she growled, more out of habit than heat. Violet and Bianca had had this exchange countless times and it had almost become a sign of affection between the two, unlike the other ingénue who had called Bianca mama before. They’d once had a dancer with them who pushed Bianca to her wits end with her constant need for attention. Management had been forced to intervene at some point. Needless to say, Bianca was still here and the dancer wasn’t. Rumor had it that she was at Beyond Belief now.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell us, Miss Violet?” Bendela Creme asked. The effervescent showgirl was one of the club’s more recently hired performers. She was an old friend of Jinkx’s and they’d decided to give her a shot. She was very well liked and Fame suspected that they would renew her contract when the trial period ended. 

Violet laughed softly. “Nope,” she stated as she walked out. The other performers looked to Fame to interpret Violet’s strange change in behavior but she could only shrug and resume getting ready for the night’s show.

As Fame sung to the dark, smoky room she took in the scene. It was a lively crowd- the booze was flowing freely and the patrons were generous tonight. Nearly all the regulars were there. Miss Tammie Brown, an adorably strange but kind woman, was in attendance, sitting with her friend Nina Flowers. Miss Ginger Minj, a chain smoking southern woman, sat at a table near the back with Miss Jasmine Masters, a chiseled lady who had an opinion on everything. They were friends of one of the club’s dancers, Miss Kennedy Davenport. A pair of foreigners sat close to the stage. Yara and Alexis, Fame thought their names were. They had only recently started to come to the club and Fame hadn’t yet formed an opinion on the duo. A large man named Mr. Imfurst was sitting along at the bar, not paying attention to the scene around him. A lithe man with very emotive facial expressions also sat at the bar, clearly waiting for someone to take the stage. He kept looking at the sides of the stage hoping to get a glimpse of whoever he was likely seeing after the show. Fame absently wondered which of her fellow performers he was looking for.

The singer began the next verse and continued to scope out the crowd. Miss O'Hara and Mr. Michaels sat at a cafe table at the very back, watching the room more than the performers, as they were wont to do. They were paying particular attention to a group of four sitting at the best table in the house. There was a tall, pale, slender man with unnaturally white hair dangling a cigarette out of his mouth while he conversed with a dark haired, unnatural looking man who seemed to be missing an eyebrow, visible even at a distance to Fame. Both had their arms around their dates but watched the chanteuse as she sang. A tall, pretty blonde with pouty lips and very long nails looked very bored in the arms of the pale man and a very young, attractive man with bright blue eyes and a septum piercing was snuggled close to the dark haired man. The four were watching Fame perform in intensity and it unnerved the singer a bit. She’d never seen them before and something about them didn’t sit well with her.

When her number ended, the young man with the septum piercing came up and tipped her, placing a hundred dollar bill in her hand and turning quickly to leave with his lover and the tall blonde girl before the singer could react. The pale man had remained behind and she saw him smile at her reaction. She took her bow and retreated backstage to get away from his piercing gaze.

The show was finally over and Fame got a chance to corner Violet about her cryptic behavior earlier. “What was all that about earlier?” she asked, intrigued.

“I might have discovered Alyssa’s Secret,” whispered Violet conspiratorially. “She’s a man! A cute one too. Did you see him out there tonight? He was sitting at the bar.”

“Imfurst?” gasped Fame, unable to resist teasing her friend. Violet threw the nearest thing at her, which turned out to be a pair of her silky stockings. Fame laughed and continued. “No I saw him. Pegged him as someone waiting for a date with one of the performers here. Didn’t think it would be you though,” admitted the singer.

“Why not?” exclaimed the girl indignantly, staring hard at her friend.

“I just thought your type was a little more uh, masculine,” suggested the chanteuse. 

“I’ve had more lovers than you know of and you’re putting me in boxes, Fame? I thought you were my friend,” said Violet, mildly offended. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just surprised. How do you know Miss Alyssa Edwards is a man anyway? Isn’t that a bit, uh dishonest?” inquired Fame.

“What difference does it make? If I like a person, what does it matter if they’re a man or a woman or both or neither?” She stared at the singer, waiting for a response. The revelation had stunned Fame and she couldn’t come up with a response. Violet scoffed. “You’re one to judge me. I know for a fact that you take both men and women as your clients.” Violet threw her lipstick tube into her bag and slammed her purse shut. She stormed out in a huff. 

“No, Violet, that isn’t it at all!” called the chanteuse after her but Violet didn’t seem to care at all.

Her words drifted back to the singer. “Whatever, Fame!” The sound of a door slamming shut ensured that Violet had the last word.

But Miss Violet did like women. That changed everything. Maybe Fame did have a chance with her after all.

Fame was still in her head at the revelation Violet had just dropped on her and she didn’t notice the figure lurking in the shadows outside the club.

“You were very good tonight, Miss Fame,” a voice said quietly, but just loud enough though to startle the chanteuse. The slender pale man from the club earlier was leaning against a wall just out of the illumination of the streetlamp, smoking a cigarette. His hat covered most of his face but Fame was certain it was him.

“Thank you. I’ve haven’t seen you here before,” she said automatically, discreetly reaching into her purse where she had a loaded revolver stashed. 

He laughed softly. “I don’t mean you any harm, darling. I’ve just come to ask for your calling card. I’d like to visit you at the Cosmo sometime. I think we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement,” he said smoothly before taking another drag of his cigarette.

“I’m not normally in the habit of given out my card to people whose name I don’t even know,” she said coyly, hiding her nerves. At least if he came to the Cosmo, she had some assurance that she would be in control of their encounter. 

“Forgive my lack of manners, Miss Fame. Oftentimes, people already know my name. I’m Sharon. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and the singer placed hers in his, finding it cold to the touch. He kissed her hand and Fame finally got a good look at him. His eyes too were unnaturally pale but there was something incredibly striking about him that she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

“Enchanted,” she replied. “Here’s my card if you care to visit me.”

He took the card between two of his fingers and nodded to her. “Good night, Miss Fame. I’ll be seeing you soon.” He left without another word and the chanteuse watched his lanky form make its way down the alley before she drew her collar closed about her face and headed home herself.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was another month before Fame saw Sharon again. In that month, Violet’s romance with Alyssa Edwards had proven short lived, as two people that vain just couldn’t make it work with each other. Even after their break up, Violet did perfect imitations of Alyssa that had the other performers in stitches. 

Fame had intended to make her move on Violet only to find out she already had another sweetheart, one Nicole Page Brooks from Atlanta, Georgia. The burlesque performer had described her so Fame could pick her out of the crowd at their show last night. Fame had expected the first woman Violet dated to be stunning, a proper knockout like the girl herself. Miss Brooks wasn’t ugly, but she wasn’t the knockout Fame expected. She had gap teeth and an obnoxious laugh. Violet was quite taken with her and Fame was incredibly jealous. 

The other performers had noted Violet’s sunnier disposition and the corresponding increase in storminess in Fame’s and figured something was wrong. Violet had gone out to talk to ‘her friend’ Miss Brooks and they finally worked up the nerve to ask the singer what had happened. 

“Everyone knows Violet doesn’t have friends except for you and now she’s got a new ‘friend’ and you’re clearly unhappy about this. What’s that all about?” asked Bendela, suggesting that there might be more to it than that.

“Nothing happened,” lied the chanteuse. 

The other performers weren’t fooled. “Mhm,” said Jinkx, “That’s why you get jealous every single time Miss Violet dangles a new lover in front of you.”

“No I don’t!” Fame denied vehemently. Jinkx just raised an eyebrow. “Is it really that obvious?” asked Fame, deflated. 

“Almost as obvious as how taken she is with you. Would you two do us all a favor and just tear each other’s clothes off and get down to it. Preferably somewhere away from here. Nobody wants to see that,” laughed Bianca. 

Fame’s mouth dropped open. “You really think she’s taken with me?” gasped Fame. 

“Everyone can see that, girl! It don’t take a genius,” called Kennedy from where she was stretching in the corner. 

“Wait, how?” Fame asked, baffled. But before any of them could answer, Violet reentered the room. Everyone immediately went back to their preparations. Violet was too clever not to see that. She just rolled her eyes and sat down at her vanity, touching up her suspiciously absent lipstick. “Weren’t you wearing lipstick earlier, Violet?” The chanteuse asked pointedly.

Violet looked up for a second before returning her eyes to the mirror. “Mhm.” Violet meticulously reapplied her lipstick and Fame watched with narrowed eyes. That meant that Miss Nicole Paige Brooks from Atlanta, Georgia was now wearing Violet’s signature scarlet. Fame was positively green with envy.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Perhaps that was the reason why the dominatrix was in a strange mood the next day. She was sitting in her room in the Hotel Cosmo refreshing her makeup when suddenly her room phone rang.  
“Hello,” she answered, expecting to hear the voice of the receptionist downstairs. 

Instead, the irritated voice of the owner of the love hotel, Willam, snapped at her on the other end. “Fame, why the hell didn’t you tell me you gave your damn card to,” he began to hiss, “Sharon freaking Needles!” 

“Is that bad?” she asked, alarmed. It had been a month, but she remembered how intense Sharon’s stare was even now. 

“No, this is fantastic! Don’t you know who Sharon is?” drawled Willam.

“No?” asked Fame uncertainly. 

“The big cheese! The street terror! The mob boss! Girl, get with the times! Sharon Needles runs this city. You better give him your best so we get more business!” demanded the owner. “I’m sending him up now. Get to it, Fame!”

The chanteuse hung up the phone and gulped audibly. Sharon was the mob boss? That explained why he had expected her to know his name. The knock on her door came sooner than she expected and giving herself one last once-over, she rushed to answer it.

Sharon looked sharp, dressed in a grey pinstripe suit with a matching hat and a fine red silk tie. He was smoking a long cigarette made himself right at home in her room. “Evening, Fame,” he greeted her. “Apologies for not calling sooner. I had some business arrangements that couldn’t wait.”

Given the revelation of his profession, Fame decided it was best not ask. “I’m sure I could take your mind off things,” she purred seductively, smiling enticingly at him.

He smiled back. “I’m sure you can, Miss Fame. What I’m looking for is a little out of the ordinary, even for your clientele.” He paused, watching her reaction. When she didn’t flinch, the mobster continued. “I want you to dress up for me and worship me. I’m the God of this city and I want to be treated as such.” He pulled an outfit out of his case and handed it to her. 

It was a mockery of a nun’s habit. The normally chaste tunic was made of a sheer black mesh material that hid nothing at all and the veil was of a black lace that more resembled what widows wore. A wooden crucifix had been profaned, the Savior’s image beheaded and Sharon’s name carved into the wood of the back. 

“Still willing?” Fame nodded slowly. “Good. Take everything off except your garter, stockings and heels and get changed. I knew I could count on you, Miss Fame.” Sharon smiled broadly, exposing teeth crooked and yellow from smoking. “Now worship me.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Sharon had turned out to be fairly pleasant company Fame found. He looked scary but he was really nice and she began to look forward to their sessions. He was charismatic and intelligent and Fame began to see why so many followed him. Their sessions helped them both immensely as neither really had someone to talk to outside of the people they worked with. Their mockery of confessions became very real confessions to each other and their strange arrangement grew into a strong but still secret friendship. It wouldn’t do to have Fame targeted so the mob boss arranged protection for her from his most loyal men. 

Fame noticed the same men showing up at the club night after night to hear her perform. Sometimes they sat with Miss O'Hara and Mister Michaels and other times they didn’t. Oftentimes she noticed one of the two regulars discreetly following her home. She mentioned it to Sharon once and he informed her that they were working for him. Should she ever need anything, she was to let them know. They were also trailing Violet home to make sure nothing happened to her either. Sharon made sure the burlesque performer was safe so no one could hurt the singer, and in turn, himself. It was a shrewd move, Fame had to admit.

Even still, the chanteuse had mixed feelings about this. In a city like this, having someone looking out for your safety was a good thing but it unnerved Fame, especially in Violet’s case, since even the singer didn’t know where the girl lived but the mob did. Fame wondered if telling Sharon about her feelings for Violet was wise. But perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all.

The dark-haired, unnatural looking man was in attendance tonight and he had requested Fame come talk to him. After her number, she refreshed and then went out to join him. Being out in the club was not something she did often and patrons flocked to her to tell her how beautiful she was or how much they had loved her singing. They all disappeared when she felt a hand improperly low on her back and was about to tell off its owner when she realized it was him. Instead, she merely shrugged it off.

“You wanted to talk to me?” the singer asked, unsettled by this man.

The man looked her up and down. “No wonder Sharon likes you,” he said quietly, before leading her to a table. Fame was about to point out that he’d seen her before and that she and Sharon were just friends but thought better of it. More than likely the mob boss had told his men to watch out for his favorite toy, not his secret confidant, in order to protect her. They sat down before the next act began. It was one of Violet’s burlesque numbers. The man pulled her uncomfortably close to him and waited for the music to swell before he began to whisper in her ear. 

“I’m Matthew. Nice to meet you officially, Miss Fame. I’ve heard good things about you,” he purred smugly, clearly enjoying making her uncomfortable. Violet finally appeared on stage and everyone stopped to watch her as she performed. She never dropped character as she teased the crowd, not when she spotted her lover and not when she spotted her friend held tight to a strange man. Violet was every bit a professional and she performed with amazing confidence and energy and the crowd loved it. Perhaps a bit too much.

Mister Imfurst was standing near the edge of the stage, clearly very drunk and watching Violet with hungry eyes. When she came near to where he was standing, he saw his chance and grabbed her, hoisting her over his shoulder and making to carry her off. The crowd gasped and thankfully Miss O'Hara and Mister Michaels intervened, helping Violet down safely and Michaels landing a good solid blow to Imfurst’s jaw before dragging him out by his collar to the cheers of the patrons.

Someone had handed Violet a shot, which she took gratefully, and after assuring Miss O'Hara she was fine, she got back on stage and picked right back up where she had left off before being so rudely interrupted. The crowd cheered uproariously for her.

Matthew leaned closer again when her interrupted number finished. “Oh she’s lovely. You two would make a lot of money if you ever filmed her in bed with you. I’d be willing to help you out,” he offered. Fame’s skin was beginning to crawl. 

“Thank you for your kind offer but what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?” she whispered back to him. 

He chuckled softly. “The broad’s sweetheart, which one is she?” Fame scanned the room? Miss Brooks was ordering up at the bar. 

“See the woman up at the bar? That’s her,” Fame indicated. “Will that be all?” Matthew smiled wickedly at her.

“For now,” he said simply, finally releasing his hold on her. She tried not to run backstage but she wanted to get away from Matthew as soon as she could and check on Violet. 

The other performers were already swarming Violet. They’d had a few drunken incidents before, inevitable in a night club like this, but never had a performer been lifted from the stage before. Violet had removed her garter and stockings was was examining her bare legs, wearing only a pair of silky drawers and pasties now. The manager came rushing in. He took in her pretty much naked state and his brain seemed to have temporarily shut down. 

He cleared his throat loudly. “Miss Violet, please put on your dressing robe. Are you alright?” he asked, genuinely concerned for his star performer. She shrugged into her robe as she began to talk.

“He left a bit of a mark but I’ll be fine. I’m quite sure whatever my timely savior is doing to him will leave a great many more marks on him than he left on me. Maybe he’ll learn to next time not drink so much liquor,” she said disapprovingly but otherwise unshaken. The manager examined the light marks visible on Violet’s legs and departed, muttering to himself. 

Miss Courtney Act, the pretty new blonde singer from Australia the club had recently hired came up to the other chanteuse. “Where were you this whole time, Miss Fame? You missed Miss Violet almost getting carried away by a drunk!” Fame looked disdainfully at her budding rival.

“I was out in the club. I saw it happen,” she replied, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

“And you didn’t do anything?” the Australian asked, seemingly shocked.

Fame seethed. “There were others closer by who handled the situation.” The longer-tenured club performer stalked off to talk to Violet. 

Violet looked up at her approach. “So who was that with his hands all over you?” said Violet coolly. Fame might have detected a hint of jealousy in the girl’s voice. 

“No one I wanted to have all over me, I assure you. He’s a colleague of a client of mine. He wanted to discuss business,” said Fame, a touch bitterly. She’d have to talk to Sharon about Matthew. 

“I hope you turned him down,” said Violet, her voice hard and her face unreadable. 

“We concluded our business,” replied the singer vaguely. She couldn’t sort out her feelings for the younger woman at the moment or tell her about her arrangement with Sharon and opted to call her in the morning instead when she had a clearer head. “Good night, Violet,” the chanteuse said softly, unsure if the girl heard. She gathered her things and left, noticing Mister Michaels trailing behind her as she made her way home. She wasn’t entirely surprised to find Sharon leaning against her building, smoking as always. With a hand gesture to Michaels, they were suddenly alone in the empty street. 

“Evening, Sharon. Care to tell me what that thing with Matthew was all about?” her voice sounded a bit shrill even to her own ears.

Sharon tossed his cigarette and stamped it out in frustration. “I thought you’d be pleased,” he said irritatedly. “Most people don’t protest the gifts I give them.” His eyes flashed dangerously. Fame might have flinched a bit but she stood her ground.

“Having one of your associates paw at me isn’t a very kind gift, Mister Needles,” spat Fame, knowing that her boldness would not likely be looked upon too kindly by the mob boss who fancied himself a god. A look of surprise crossed his face.

“He was told not to lay a hand on you,” Sharon’s voice took on a very dangerous quality. His body language softened for a moment as he turned to fully face Fame. “Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. I’ll see that it doesn’t happen again. See you at the usual time tomorrow. Good evening, Miss Fame.” He tipped his hat to her before departing, leaving The chanteuse wondering what exactly had just happened.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The next morning, the singer was awoken by her phone at an ungodly hour. She picked up the receiver and groggily answered the call. 

“Fame?” Violet’s panicked voice came over the line. The sound instantly made Fame more alert.

“Violet, what is it? What’s wrong?” asked Fame concerned.

Her friend’s voice was shaking. “It’s Nicole…”

“What she do to you?” Rage filled the chanteuse’ voice. “If she hurt you, I’ll-”

“Fame! She was murdered last night!” Violet cried, cutting off the singer.

Fame’s jaw dropped. “What?” The sound of Violet crying on the other end reached the singer’s ears. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! How did you find out?”

“She disappeared from the club last night. We were supposed to go out last night afterwards but between the incident and other things, she wasn’t out there waiting for me when I got out. I called her apartment but no one answered. I waited for a bit. Miss O'Hara saw me standing outside alone and offered to walk home with me. I took her up on her offer and called Nicole again when I got home. Still no answer. Then this morning, I hear a loud knock on my door. The police came by and asked me some questions and showed me a photograph of her body. Whoever killed her meant it. The wounds were too deliberate to be a random mugging…” Her voice trailed off as she began to sob again. 

“Oh my god, Violet…” Fame was lost for words.  
Violet’s voice was small when she finally worked up to speaking. “Will you- will you come stay with me? I’m afraid to be alone right now.”

“Of course, Violet. I’ll be right over,” Fame said soothingly.

“My address is 43 Old Bridge Lane. Apartment 7B. See you soon and please hurry,” said the burlesque performer as she hung up. Fame’s hands shook as she returned the phone to its hook. Another voice rang in her head.

_‘I thought you’d be pleased. Most people don’t protest the gifts I give them.’_

A shiver ran down her spine as the realization dawned on her. She’d told Sharon too much.  
With a few careless words, Miss Fame had inadvertently caused the murder of Miss Nicole Paige Brooks from Atlanta, Georgia.


	5. A Star Is Born - The Prequel - Part 3

Miss Fame hastened to Violet’s apartment, fear and doubt clouding her mind. Paranoia gripped her as she sat in the backseat of the cab, every timed they were stopped at a light, she held her breath. This city belonged to Sharon Needles and the chanteuse firmly believed now that nothing was beyond his reach. Her unguarded words to a man who believed himself a god had already cost one life and she analyzed what else she had said in those moments of confession to him. He had claimed he had given her a gift. He’d freed Violet for her but she never wanted it to happen like this. An innocent girl was dead because of her. She’d pointed her out last night to a dangerous man and that was likely the last anyone had ever seen of her. The thought unsettled her.

Fame was as much of a mess as Violet was sure to be by the time she reached the girl’s apartment. She knocked hesitantly, not wanted to startle the distraught girl. Silently the door opened, revealing a tear stained and disheveled Violet still in her negligée, clutching a newspaper. She shut and locked the door as soon as Fame was inside.

“Nicole wasn’t the only one murdered last night,” she whispered, handing the newspaper over to the chanteuse.

“What?” Fame gasped.

“Mister Imfurst and Miss Act were also found murdered last night. The three bodies had similar wounds, enough to suggest that it was the same killer. All of them were at the club with us last night,” she said, her voice shaking. 

Fame gasped. She was certain that Matthew had killed Miss Brooks but what cause did he have to go after the other two? She wracked her brain, trying to remember the words she’d said in vulnerable nights, when held in slender arms, on the verge of exhaustion. She’d expressed her fear of being replaced by the other pretty blonde singer. The other two murders were an indirect result of her unrequited love for Miss Violet Chachki. Matthew had come for Miss Brooks and likely Miss Act as well and had witnessed the drunken debacle with Mister Imfurst. Mister Michaels had likely turned the unfortunate man over to the terrifying hitman after removing him from the club. Fame should have never given her card to the strange pale man.

But if she hadn’t, where would she be now? More than likely it would have been her picture in the paper under the word ‘murder’. A chill ran down her spine. Whatever she had gotten herself into, there was nothing she could do about it now. Best to remain on Sharon’s good side than to try to bring trouble down upon herself. All she could do now was try her best to keep herself and Violet safe. 

Violet. The girl was staring at her, uncertainty plain in her eyes. They were both in danger and she knew it, but not how or why. What had she done to deserve this, Fame wondered to herself. She had attracted the attention of a self-styled god and now everything and everyone she knew was in danger. Violet looked so lost and suddenly Fame remembered just how young she was. 

Twenty-one was a tender age and Violet was a remarkably strong person but this was something else. Having someone you cared for murdered was not something you could ever prepare yourself for. 

The two continued to stare at each other, fear and longing in their eyes. How easy it would be to take Violet into her arms and offer her the comfort she was so desperately seeking. Was it fair to her, knowing as Fame did, how exactly this had come to pass, to comfort her for her loss when Fame, however involuntarily, was the cause of it? One look into those big brown eyes though and she was lost. 

Fame closed the short distance between them and took the girl into her arms, both of them breaking out into tears and sinking to the floor in a heap, still locked in their embrace. They clung to each other for dear life, afraid and alone save for each other in this dangerous world. Maybe Fame had waited too long but she was done waiting. She pulled the shaking girl in her arms closer and pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head. Life was too fragile not to go after what she really wanted. 

Neither could say how long they remained like that, wrapped in each other’s arms. They likely would have stayed there longer if not for an insistent knocking at the door. They looked at each other in horror and together they approached the door to look through the peephole. A young police officer stood outside. Relieved, they opened the door. 

“Hello, Miss Chachki. Miss Fame, I presume? I’m glad I caught you here. I’m Officer Fierce. Do you ladies mind if I ask you both some questions?” He smiled kindly, which put them both a bit more at ease. He couldn’t have been much older than Violet but he had a kindly, easy-going air about him that made them both like him instantaneously.

“Of course, Officer, come in,” indicated Violet. In her emotional haze, Fame hadn’t gotten a good look at the burlesque performer’s home. Fame suspected that it was normally kept incredibly tidy but various items were strewn about the room. An empty glass sat next to an unstoppered liquor decanter, likely from last night when Violet had thought Nicole had left without her and was ignoring her calls. The newspaper they had been reading had been left forgotten on the floor where they dropped it in their haste to hold each other. A book lay face down on the coffee table, abandoned. An open, half eaten box of chocolates was visible in the kitchen. There were lots of trinkets about as well, neatly ordered and carefully dusted. If there were more time, Fame might have liked of look around more but there wasn’t.

Violet led them to a charming sitting area with a plush pink velvet couch and a pair of tasteful floral armchairs. They were so dainty and feminine, not exactly something Fame had expected to find in the home of such a strong and willful person as the burlesque performer. Officer Fierce took one of the armchairs and the performers sat on the couch. 

“I know you’ve already given a statement Miss Chachki but we have a few more questions. Could you two tell me about the incident with Mr. Imfurst that happened last night at the club you work at?” he asked.

Violet opted to answer first, her voice astonishingly level. “It happened during one of my numbers. It’s well known that Mr. Imfurst has a fondness for liquor. He’s a regular at the club and one of the bar’s best customers for certain. He often tips me but I’ve never really interacted with him. Last night was the first time I’ve ever seen him touch a performer in my three years at The Kit Kat Club.”

Fame joined in. “Mr. Imfurst been a regular as long as I’ve been employed by the club. He has, on occasion, become belligerent enough after drinking to require a cab to be called but it’s the first time he’s ever accosted a performer. Usually he keeps to himself. I’ve never seen him bother a performer or really even talk to anyone outside of the bartender.”

Officer Fierce made notes on their statements. “So what exactly transpired last night?”

Violet chimed in. “I was onstage performing. I had noticed Mr. Imfurst amongst the crowd. He was standing near Mr. Michaels and Miss O'Hara, two other club regulars. I always scope out the room as I perform and pick out the locations of our regulars. All the performers do.” Fame nodded in agreement and Violet continued. “At one point, I moved to the edge of the stage near Mr. Imfurst and I was looking out at the club when he reached over and wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled me over his shoulder. Miss O'Hara and Mr. Michaels pulled me off of his shoulder and Miss O'Hara helped me back on my feet. Mr. Michaels punched Mr. Imfurst in the face and dragged him out of the club by his collar. I assume he just dumped him in the alley outside the club because I saw him come back in after a few minutes when I was concluding my number. But anyway, I took a shot given to me by another regular, Miss Nina Flowers, and assured Miss O'Hara that I was fine and resumed my number. The incident left me with some bruises as Mr. Imfurst is quite strong and has a firm grip but I assumed that was the end of it.”

“May I see these bruises, Miss Chachki?” he inquired politely. She nodded and pulled up her robe a bit to reveal her bare, shapely legs and tilted them to reveal the slight bruising on them. He tried not to gawk at her revealed skin. “That’s sufficient,” he said after briefly inspecting the marks. “What do you know of Mr. Michaels?”

“He’s quite a gentleman,” Fame answered quickly. “He walked me home last night.”

Both of them turned to her in surprise.   
“Would you say then that you’re well acquainted with him?” The police officer’s implication hung heavy in the air. A silent look of understanding flashed across Violet’s face. Even as unkempt as she was, she was still beautiful and she turned those stunning eyes on the policeman. 

“Why, Officer, surely it isn’t illegal now for a man to walk home a woman he’s courting?” She battled her eyelashes attractively at him as she placed her hand on her chest in false surprise.

“Of course not, Miss Chachki! Forgive me, Miss Fame. I meant no offense. I’m just trying to get to the bottom of this. It’s a bit of a curious case, you understand,” he explained. 

Violet smiled winningly at him. “And I’m sure you’re doing the best you can do right now, Officer. How lucky we are to have the city’s finest on the job, protecting us.” 

Fame thought the other performer was laying it on thick but Officer Fierce seemed to be going for it. Funny how much men would believe from the lips of an attractive woman. 

“All part of the job, miss. But you can vouch for Mr. Michaels then, Miss Fame?” asked the police officer. 

“I can,” she said. It wasn’t entirely a lie after all. She had seen Mr. Michaels last night, even if she hadn’t seen him reenter the club, and he had walked her home, albeit at a distance. But best not to talk too much about the mob. 

“Very well. We’ll be in touch with you at another time, Miss Fame. Thank you for you time, ladies. You have a good day now,” he said, smiling particularly kindly at Violet. 

“You too, Officer,” said Violet, shutting the door behind him before whirling on Fame. “You didn’t tell me Mister Michaels was one of your clients,” she gasped. “Good for you.” She laughed softly. Fame just stared at the girl. She was dealing remarkably well for someone who just had been recently informed that their lover and two other people they saw frequently had been murdered.

“Are you alright, Violet?” she asked, genuinely concerned. 

“Are you?” the girl countered, “Are any of us? There’s quite possibly a serial killer stalking our place of employment! My lover, our coworker and our regular just got murdered! And there’s no good leads or motives!” She laughed hollowly, clearly on the verge of hysteria. 

Fame pulled the girl close to her. “Hey, we’re going to be ok.”

“Can you promise that?” she asked. Fame’s heart melted at the sound of the vulnerability in her voice. 

Fame considered for a moment. “Yes, I think I can.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The three murders were eventually pinned on someone known as Jiggly Caliente, who claimed to have no knowledge of the of the crime. Damning new evidence was discovered in Jiggly’s apartment and the case was considered closed. Fame knew better though and absently wondered what Jiggly had done to get on the mob’s bad side. She didn’t wonder too hard though. She knew better than to do that. Even still, she breathed a sigh of relief that the case was shut.

Sharon continued to visit her at the Hotel Cosmo and they never discussed his 'gifts’ to her but he did constantly ask about how things were progressing with Violet. Fame and she were practically inseparable now since Nicole’s death, with Violet slowly learning to rely on someone other than herself. 

As time went on, she and Violet grew ever closer. They took to getting dinner together at the corner diner before their Friday night shows. Violet had been doing that since she had been hired by the Kit Kat Club and Fame was honored to be included in her personal ritual. 

Despite knowing each other for years, they realized that they actually knew very little about each other. Little by little, they told each other stories of each other. Violet was far kinder than Fame ever realized. There was a teenage runaway called Lil’ Pound Cake who hung out near the docks that Violet would always take care of whenever she got the chance. Often the girl was too spaced out to be aware of anything but she somehow always remembered Violet and all the food and clothes and things she gave her. She never seemed to want to accept Violet’s help to go somewhere or get off the streets though.

“I think it’s very kind of you but I can’t help but wonder why do you help her so much? She’s not going to make much of anything with all that she’s taking,” inquired Fame gently as they walked down the busy street.

A faraway look took over Violet. “I ran away from home once. It didn’t end well.” She said no more on the subject and the singer didn’t press it. After a moment of walking in silence, the girl turned to her. “Have you ever slept with a woman, Fame?”

Fame looked wistfully into the distance. “It was a long time ago now.” Now it was her turn to say no more and Violet’s to let the subject drop.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Fame knew something was wrong the instant she walked into the dressing room the next day. It was one of the few times that Violet wasn’t with her and as soon as she walked in, everyone stopped talking. Fame looked around suspiciously. “Did I miss something?” she asked them. Predictably, they were reluctant to answer her. 

Finally, the dancer Kennedy broke the silence. “You should keep a closer watch on your girl Violet, Miss Fame. Maybe you’re not doing something right,” she suggested. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the singer demanded. 

“Well, Violet was seen hiring the corner prostitute, Miss Kandy Ho, earlier…” Jinkx’s voice trailed off uncertainly. “And since you two are seeing each other now…”

Fame’s face flamed. “Well, we weren’t exactly seeing each other…” she admitted.

“I told you!” blurted the new ingénue singer, Adore. “You owe me $5!” she crowed to Bianca. Fame had thought her unpolished before and her opinion of the young woman was declining rapidly.

“Shut up, bitch. Don’t you have any manners?” asked Bianca even as she fished for her purse. 

“I’m so sorry, Fame,” began Bendela. “We just thought since you and our resident ice queen have been cozier as of late that you two had finally gotten together.”

“Well we hadn’t,” replied Fame flatly. 

Right at that moment, Violet walked in. The room once again fell silent and the singer turned away, wanting to let the girl know that she was not going to easily be forgiven. Violet huffed and began to get ready, pointedly ignoring everyone. The show went on and the two were stubbornly avoiding each other, waiting to see which one of them would crack first. 

In the end it was Fame, and once again, she made her move too late. Adore informed her that she had seen Violet leave during her number with a slight man with big eyes, a large mouth and a chiseled jaw. Fame adamantly asserted that she didn’t care about that but she wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself. Adore pulled the other singer into a sympathetic hug which she stiffly accepted before packing up to go home dejectedly. 

She must have looked particularly awful because Mr. Michaels walked beside her on the way home, offering her his arm and asking if she was alright. She accepted his arm but shrugged off his question, walking silently arm in arm with her appointed protector. “Tell your boss that he better not cause anymore headlines over this,” she told him and he nodded, likely not wanting to be investigated for murder again himself.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was a strange day at the Cosmo for Fame. Sharon of course had shown up first, unhappy to hear of the wrinkle in her attempts to woo the brunette bombshell who haunted her dreams. Sharon listened raptly to her tale of woe and offered this simple advice: “Talk to her.” Fame nodded. He was probably right but Fame couldn’t help but chafe at the setback in the improvements in her relationship with Violet. 

After Sharon had left, the front desk called to tell her that she had a new customer, a first timer. When she answered the door, she certainly wasn’t expecting this man. It was the same one who she had seen that first night she had met Sharon and Matthew. This was the same handsome young man with bright blue eyes that Matthew had wrapped up in his arms as the younger man stared up lovingly at him. He’d also tipped her a hundred dollar bill that night.

“Well, hello handsome. I must confess I never thought I’d see you again, especially not here. What can I do for you?” the dominatrix asked silkily. 

“Don’t call me handsome. My name is Matt. I’m not looking for what your usual customers are,” he said monotonously. His voice was deep and he spoke slowly but there was an underlying panic to his eyes. 

“I’ve heard those words before. Also, Matt? Last time I saw you, you were snuggled up with Matthew,” said Fame gently.

“Matthew? I’ve never heard anyone call him that. He’s Detox or really Detox Icunt. But just Detox,” the young man corrected her, looking entirely unimpressed with her. “Anyway, he’s my husband.”

Fame gaped at that. “Husband?”

“Yes. I married him as soon as I turned 18. And I do love him. But he’s too good at his job and I get lonely when he’s gone for so long. He knows this but it was Sharon who suggested I come to you. They all remember how much I liked hearing you sing and Sharon clearly trusts you. So here we are,” he said, his voice inexpressive.

“And what exactly do you hope to get out of this, Mister…?” Fame trailed off, realizing she didn’t know his last name. 

“Lent. Matt James Lent,” he informed her. “I want freedom, Miss Fame. Everywhere I go, I’m Detox’s boy. Needles owns this town and my husband is his top hitman. I can’t escape so I want to disappear in plain sight. I want you to teach me how to do my hair and make up and look and act like a woman.” Fame looked at him dumbfounded. He sighed deeply “Don’t you know what it’s like to be trapped, Miss Fame?”

She very much did in fact. And she’d done some foolish things because of it. She looked him over, noting the pleading in his eyes and the sag in his shoulders. Whether he loved him or not, being married to Matthew, or Detox as she now knew him, could not be easy, especially not with the life they led. 

“Alright,” she agreed. “We’ll start with some basics. Soon, with enough practice, you’ll be looking and acting like a proper lady!” The boy’s face lit up and Fame couldn’t help but be reminded of Violet and how she’d get a similar glint in her eye whenever she got things her way, which was rather often.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The next call after Matt Jame Lent was just about as unexpected. The front desk told her a woman had come to see her and they were incredibly jealous because she was a real stunner and they had already sent her up right away. Fame squeaked indignantly about needing time to prepare but the knocking on her door couldn’t be ignored. She hung up the phone and ran to admit her next customer. 

Violet entered, looking lovelier than Fame had ever seen her, which was saying something as Violet always looked lovely. Her silky hair draped enchantingly about her face in loose waves and her makeup was done flawlessly. She wore a slinky red satin gown that hugged her curves almost indecently. Her opera length gloves and veiled hat were of the same material. She wore an elegant ruby choker, no doubt given to her by an admirer. She clutched a dainty purse in her hand. Toweringly high, elegant heels completed the ensemble. She looked like a siren, desire incarnate. It was enough to drive someone mad. Fame absently wondered how many hearts Violet had broken just since leaving her house dressed like that. 

“I’ve often wondered what this place looked like and what happened within these walls. You don’t know how often I imagined what you would do to me if I ever came here,” she said nonchalantly, clearly enjoying throwing Miss Fame off.

Fame’s jaw dropped open. “You can’t just say that, Miss Violet!” she gasped in shock at the girl’s forwardness. She shrugged unrepentantly.

“A girl can dream, can’t she?” teased Violet. Fame stared at the girl in disbelief.

“Did you mean that?” Fame asked seriously. “What about whatshisname, your flavor of the week?” she asked a touch jealously.

Violet laughed prettily. “Kandy Ho or Morgan McMichaels? That’s old news, Fame. I’m talking about right now. Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about this pretty much since you met me?” she said, her voice low and enticing. Fame could barely believe it.

“You’re not having a laugh at my expense now are you?” Fame asked incredulously.

Violet smirked. “Why don’t we find out? We’re already here,” she suggested, her voice low with desire. Fame’s mind was already racing ahead, thinking up all the numerous things she could do to the girl now that she was here but she couldn’t shake the lingering doubt that plagued her. 

“What are you hoping to get out of this, Violet?” she asked deliberately, afraid to hear the answer. 

“I’m hoping we finally stop this foolish game of jealousy we’ve been playing and finally do what we’ve both always wanted. Neither of us can guarantee that it will work out but we can at least give it a try. Life is too short for regrets, Fame,” the girl looked at her with desire naked in her eyes, but also a great tenderness. Dare she even think it, but also love. 

Fame closed the distance between them in three quick strides, grabbing the girl and pulling their lips together like they’d always wanted to. They would sort out the messy details later. All that mattered right now to Miss Fame was that she was finally kissing Violet Chachki.


	6. A Star Is Born - The Prequel - Part 4

Kissing Violet was everything she imagined it to be and more. Her lips were soft and supple, and she let Fame set the pace. The dominatrix held her close and eventually guided her to the bed, where they kissed until they were breathless and touched each other through their clothes. Violet laid her head on Fame’s shoulder as the chanteuse lay on her back, the burlesque performer on her side. Fame’s arms wrapped around the other girl who was absently tracing patterns on the singer’s flat belly. Fame sat up to press a kiss to the part of Violet closest to her lips, which happened to be the crown of her head. Violet looked up at her, a blissful smile on her face, and the singer pressed another kiss to Violet’s skin. Neither wished to speak and ruin the moment that they’d both been longing for. 

Fame couldn’t wait anymore and decided to follow the advice she’d received earlier from Sharon and actually talk to the girl. “What happens now, Violet?” asked Fame, looking the girl straight in the eyes, trying to keep the hope that swelled in her heart down lest the girl reject her.

“What do you want to happen now?” she asked uncertainly. 

“No, Violet, you don’t get to turn this on me. You came here after all. You hired a prostitute and left with a patron yesterday. Are you hiring me too?” Fame asked, fear evident in her voice.

Violet recoiled. “Do you think that I am?” she asked aghast. 

Fame laughed bitterly. “Here we go again. We can’t get past our own fear and jealousy. I don’t know how we could ever make anything work between us.” Fame turned away, tears already welling up in her eyes. Violet crawled over to her, turning the singer back to face her. 

“Fame, listen to me. I don’t have a talent for making friends like you do. I let very few people in my life at all. You don’t let yourself love anyone because you’re afraid of being hurt. I understand that. I don’t know what happened to you before, Fame, but I’ve seen the way you look at me. Even when I tried to push you away, you persisted. I didn’t know what I felt for you for the longest time. I didn’t even know it was possible for two women to love each other. There are things you just don’t learn outside the city. This is a cruel place to live, but anywhere else would be worse. We do what we have to in order to survive. We live a lonely life of our choosing but it brought us together. Who are we to deny ourselves this? We’ve given so much to be where we are. Why can’t we have something for ourselves for once?” Violet looked expectantly at Fame. 

Fame was moved by the girl’s impassioned plea but a couple of doubts still lingered. “All those lovers were because you don’t know you could love a woman or love me?” 

Violet smiled ruefully. “Did you have all the answers when you first came to the city, Fame?”

Fame grinned. “No, definitely not.” The pair laughed.

“That sounds like a story worth hearing on another day,” suggested the girl. Then her face turned serious. “What do you say, Fame? Are you willing to give us a try?”

Fame couldn’t contain her joy. “I am if you are.”

A truly radiant smile lit up Violet’s face. “More than willing,” was all she said before crashing her mouth against Fame’s, knocking their noses together in her haste. Fame laughed and pulled the girl in tight. Fame never wanted to let her go.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Every day with Violet was a blessing. Days became weeks, weeks became months and months became a full year since that day that Violet had come to Fame at The Hotel Cosmo and laid her heart bare and they became a couple. At first they were lusty, unable to keep their hands off each other even for a moment, to the delight and horror of everyone around them. Then they were romantic, bringing each other little presents simply because they could. And finally, they were comfortable, content to sit next to each other and do things together that they had previously been accustomed to do alone. 

That isn’t to say though, that they were always happy. Days without Violet were hell to Fame. No less than six separate occasions of jealousy had threatened to tear the lovers apart in that single year. They were too prideful and too passionate and yet too afraid get hurt but also too afraid to lose the other. In this way they suited each other perfectly. Inevitably, they would be drawn back to each other to make amends and begin again. 

Their love was real but they did not always know the best way to show it. The difference was that with each other, they were willing to work things out. The good always outweighed the bad. While their relationship wasn’t the steadiest, they were definitely in love. 

They endured no small amount of teasing from their fellow performers but they paid them no mind. Life went on, they performed, Fame continued to go to work at the Cosmo and Violet continued to entice a never ending parade of admirers who never realized the girl’s heart already belonged to another. Sharon continued to visit Fame and so did Matt. The young man was a quick learner and it wasn’t long after he began to see the dominatrix that his alter ego, Pearl, took shape. 

Pearl was a stunning woman. Matt transformed so completely when he put on Pearl’s makeup, clothes and jewelry. He looked and acted nothing like himself when he was Pearl. Fame wasn’t sure where he was hiding all his stuff for Pearl when he wasn’t with her but he was very good at living this double life. He even covered up their real actions by photographing Fame and delivering the prints to his husband and Sharon. No one suspected them of anything outside the ordinary. 

It came then as a great surprise to the chanteuse when Pearl showed up one night at the Kit Kat Club. Fame didn’t acknowledge the beauty watching her. Too many witnesses. Miss O'Hara and Mister Michaels were sitting a table away and who knows how many others were watching. Matt’s husband was a man Fame hoped she never had to deal with ever again now that she knew what he was capable of. 

Fame took her bows and was replaced on stage by Violet. The singer stayed in the wings, pretending to watch her lover but really because she was unnerved by Pearl’s appearance in this club. Fame was constantly watched here and her movements were reported directly to Sharon. The mob boss came on occasion to watch her and always tipped her and Violet generously. Thankfully he wasn’t in attendance tonight. 

Pearl had definitely taken notice of Violet and was standing near the stage now, holding out a bill for her to take. When she did, the woman who wasn’t actually a woman held out another. Violet quirked a smile and took it gratefully, shimmying a little as a reward for the generosity and he stuffed another bill into her panties. She gasped playfully and moved sensually to another part of the stage. The hunger in which he watched her lover discomforted the singer and she made a note to warn the girl about him. 

She and Violet had been fighting about another of the girl’s admirers who had been a little too forward for Fame’s liking but Violet insisted it was harmless. After the show, she’d make things up to the girl and warn her about Pearl. How she was going to do that without revealing her own mob connections. Fame feared that if she told Violet even a little bit, it would all come to light. Fame still felt a bit guilty about her inadvertent connection to the murder of the girl’s previous lover. Violet would never forgive her for that. 

Violet came off the stage and noticed Fame watching her. “What, making sure I don’t run away?” she said flatly, clearly not in the mood to resolve things between them. “Or here to tell me that I shouldn’t have accepted those tips from that beautiful woman? Because it’s no different taking tips than accepting gifts or getting paid to dominate someone.” 

“You should stay away from that girl, but not because Pearl gives you tips,” warned Fame.

“Pearl? Is that her name? You know her?” Violet asked intrigued. 

“A client of mine,” the singer said cagily, reluctant to discuss how she knew Pearl any further. 

“Not the first time a client of yours has admired me nor an admirer of mine has gone to see you for what they’re not getting elsewhere,” said Violet dismissively. “Not that you seem to care. If anyone even looks at me, you get angry with me. You know who and what I am, Fame. You’ve always known! I can’t win with you. I might as well take someone else into my bed for the way you condemn me for even looking twice at anyone other than you! If I’m going to get in trouble, I might as well have some fun doing what you falsely accuse me of!”

Fame opened her mouth to argue but the fighting couple was interrupted by Adore’s appearance. She hesitated but realizing that they’d already seen her, she delivered her message. “There’s a man who wants to see you, Fame,” the younger singer said quietly, clearly sensing the tense mood the pair were in. “He’s waiting at the stage door. He said it was urgent.”

“I’ll be right there,” Fame gritted out, not even bother to face the other singer. She and Violet were glaring at each other, intensely locked into a battle of wills. Adore nodded and left, not caring if they saw her gesture. The other performers knew better than to get involved when the passionate couple were fighting. Fame was the first to break, as always. She felt Violet’s gaze boring into her back as she went to see who could possibly want to talk urgently to her.

“Good evening, Mister Michaels. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Fame intoned neutrally, trying to hide the swirling emotions inside from her appointed protector. 

Ever the gentleman, he tipped his hat to her before replying. “Evening, Miss Fame. Apologies for the short notice, but the boss would like to hire you to sing at his birthday party tomorrow night. He’ll be by at his regular time to give you the details. He would furthermore like it very much if you brought your lovely lady friend with you, seeing as he has not yet had the opportunity to become aquatinted with her. All of the boss’s friends will be on their best behavior and no one will be the wiser, he assures you,” said Michaels smoothly, subtly conveying his real meaning.

She was going to be singing to the mob boss at his birthday party tomorrow night, regardless of whatever else she had planned and she had to bring Violet with her. They would apparently carry on some sort of charade to keep Violet in the dark about what exactly those in attendance did. And Sharon promised they’d be on their best behavior so it seemed as if she had no choice. That left only one problem. Getting Violet to go with her.

“I’ll be there alright but unless your boss has a quick way to patch things up between me and my lady love, I’ll be going alone tomorrow night,” the chanteuse told him.

“How bad is it?” he asked gently.

A new voice chimed in. “Pretty bad considering she just left with the beautiful broad with the loose cash.” Miss O'Hara stood with her hands on her hips. “They took a cab. They could be headed anywhere,” she said ruefully. Fame sighed. 

Perhaps Violet would be put off by the fact that her latest admirer wasn’t what she appeared to be but Fame wasn’t certain anymore. Perhaps it was just better to head home, even if she were headed to an empty bed. They didn’t live together but it didn’t matter. They had keys to each other’s apartments. More and more of their things ended up in the other’s home since they practically lived at the other’s place half the time anyway. The couple never slept apart except for when they fought like tonight. Best not to think about it now. The chanteuse had the mob boss’s birthday to prepare for after all.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

When Fame left her apartment the next day to head to the Cosmo, she wasn’t exactly surprised to find Sharon outside her door. What was surprising, however, were the numerous bags and boxes that surrounded him. 

“They’re for tonight,” he said by way of explanation. Two men appeared seemingly from nowhere and began to move them inside. Sharon made himself right at home in her sitting room. Once the boxes were inside the men left and Fame shut the door behind them. She turned to face the mobster. 

“What’s for tonight?” she asked cautiously.

With a gesture he indicated that she should open the boxes. One by one she pulled out a gorgeous scarlet gown, matching undergarments, stockings, shoes and absolutely stunning jewels that complimented the ensemble. Fame gasped. “You’re giving me all this?” 

“Of course. I won’t lie to you. It makes me feel good about myself to have the two most beautiful women in this city accompanying me tonight. Makes me feel even better when I give them the means to enhance their beauty,” he toyed idly with the fringe on a couch cushion. 

“I don’t know if Mister Michaels told you but Violet and I aren’t on the best of terms right now,” said Fame a touch bitterly. 

“I’ve taken care of it,” Sharon said nonchalantly. Fame immediately looked up in alarm. “Not that way. I sent Miss Chachki a coordinating fine gown and matching accessories as I have given you, as well as a stunning array of flowers. She thinks it’s all from you. I also might have sent her a card in your name begging her to forgive you. She and the girl from the club last night only went to a late night diner before your girl up and left. Must’ve said something not to her liking. Maybe she just got sick of the other girl. Whatever it was, she was incredibly moved by your gifts.”

The dominatrix stared at her most unusual client. He fancied himself a god and the city lived in fear of him even if they didn’t know who he was. This slender, angel-faced gentleman had never shown Fame his devilish side and the chanteuse feared to ever see it. Absently, Fame wondered how many people beside herself saw the lighter side of Sharon Needles. 

Fame’s phone rang, shocking her out of her contemplation. “That’ll likely be your Miss Chachki,” crooned Sharon, clearly pleased with himself.

“Hello?” answered the singer as she picked up the receiver.

“I’m sorry, Fame.” A familiar voice sounded on the other end.

“Violet, I-”

“No, Fame, just listen please. I’m sorry I left with someone else last night. I was just so angry with you. I felt like you were trying to control me and I just wanted to do the opposite of what you told me. Pearl tried to get me to pose naked for her. I couldn’t do that to you,” Violet said earnestly, her voice full of tenderness.

“So that’s what happened at the diner!” blurted the singer without thinking. 

“How did you know about that?” Violet’s voice instantly turned suspicious. 

“A regular of mine told me,” asserted Fame. It wasn’t a lie after all.

“Oh,” accepted the burlesque performer. “Anyway, I’d love to go with you to your gig tonight. And that gown! It’s stunning, Fame! How did you order me a custom gown without me noticing? They got my measurements perfect, even my waist. It’s really lovely. Thank you so much, Fame! You must tell me about this Mister Needles!” gushed Violet. Nothing got her quite so excited as fashion. Fame was much the same in this regard and she couldn’t wait to see what Sharon had bought Violet, even if it bothered her somewhat that Sharon somehow had the girl’s exact measurements. 

“Mister Needles is a man of wealth and taste. He’s a gentleman and a scholar. A philosopher and a businessman. I think you’d like him,” said the singer. She chanced a look at the man himself who was clearly intrigued with her description of him. 

“Can’t wait to meet him tonight then. And show you how this gown looks on me. And I’m especially waiting for when you get to take all your gifts off of me much later tonight…” her voice trailed off suggestively. Fame couldn’t help the pang of arousal that coursed through her. 

“I’ll wait with baited breath, my love,” she replied.

“See you and Mister Needles at five then,” said Violet breathily. “Until then, my sweet.”

She hung up the phone and turned back to her patron. He looked the very picture of smugness, knowing how very grateful Fame was for his intervention.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Five o'clock arrived faster than Fame anticipated. Sharon had made her run through the set list he’d given her until he was truly satisfied with it. They both got ready for the party in Fame’s apartment and the dominatrix sang as they did so. Sharon helped Fame with the numerous buttons on the back of her dress, styling the singer to his satisfaction. When he deemed them both ready, they departed for Violet’s place in an incredibly elegant handmade car, one of those massive old ones society’s elite once were driven around in the days of cheap petrol and extravagant luxury. Right now, it was Mister Michaels driving them. He parked while Fame and Sharon went up to fetch Violet. Fame held her breath as they waited for the burlesque performer to open the door for them. After a brief moment, she finally did. Fame gasped at the sight of her lover all dolled up for the party. 

“Miss Chachki, it is a true pleasure to finally meet you. You look truly beautiful. Miss Fame has told me so much about you, all good I promise. I’m Sharon Needles. Your lovely lady and I are just friends I promise you. We read bible verses together at least once a week,” assured Sharon.

Violet quirked an eyebrow at that but didn’t miss a beat. “Enchanted to meet you, Mister Needles. I’ve seen you at our shows before but we’ve never had to opportunity to get acquainted. I’m glad we finally get a chance to remedy that. And a very happy birthday to you!” she wished him with a radiant smile. Violet didn’t need to know that Fame read verses out of Sharon’s own personal bible. He had doctored his copy. What else could have been expected from a man who considered himself the city’s own personal God?

“Thank you, dear. Shall we head out? Chad has the car out front.” He beamed at the two breathtakingly beautiful women as he lead them to the door.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

As it turned out, Violet, Fame and Sharon got along incredibly well, just as the chanteuse predicted. Violet clearly loved her dress, as well as Fame’s. They coordinated with each other, as well as with what the mob boss was wearing, Sharon’s suit was also elegant and impeccably tailored. They made a fierce looking trio. The mob boss was clearly pleased with himself that he succeeded in securing the two most beautiful women in the city to accompany his to his own birthday party.

Sharon had told Violet that he worked in private security. Not entirely untrue but a gross understatement. Sharon had quickly turned the conversation to the burlesque performer and charmed her into talking about herself. Something about the charismatic mob boss drew her in and she opened up to him, telling him how she’d come to the city after being strongly encouraged to leave home if she was so determined to become a loose woman, which is what her family considered all burlesque performers. 

Fame hadn’t even heard that story. She squeezed the girl’s hand in sympathy and the pair shared a significant look.

The chanteuse looked upon her lover with increased respect. She had given up so much to pursue her passion. Her perfectionism made so much sense now. No wonder she was so good at her art. She had something to prove. She also didn’t let people in because the people who were supposed to love her most didn’t. Fame felt for the girl. Her own story was very much the same. She too had been cast out and come to the city alone and the city had only taken advantage of her inexperience. Fame vowed to herself that she would give Violet the world. The girl deserved it.

The party was quite an event. Everyone who was anyone as there. They all took notice as Sharon arrived with the two beautiful performers. Perhaps a touch bitterly, Fame noted Raven and his wife Jujubee among the partygoers greeting them. She was somewhat comforted by the loving way he looked upon his wife. He did greet Violet quite warmly and Fame couldn’t help the spark of jealousy that it lit. Jujubee turned about to be quite adorable and the married couple seemed incredible happy. Perhaps there was nothing to worry about.

Countless people came up to greet the trio. Fame observed how Violet basked in the attention she was getting from being on the mob boss’s arm. A great many eyes looked up them with lust and envy. Sharon looked coolly smug, obviously pleased with his choice of dates. Fame felt comforted, at least, that no one would dare accost her or Violet without risking the wrath of the city’s self-appointed god. 

Inside the venue, couples were dancing to a lively band but as soon as Sharon entered, the music stopped and the assembled crowd turned and cheered and wished the slender pale man a very happy birthday indeed. Sharon indicated the music should resume and at his cue it did. The crowd parted for them and Fame began to get a sense of just how much power Sharon had in this city. 

The party was the most extravagant thing she and Violet had ever seen. The two exchanged a look of amazement as they tried not to gawk at the luxury they were surrounded with. Vibrant lights and upbeat music enlivened the opulent room. No expense had been spared and tastefully elegant decor provided a lush backdrop. Huge amounts of food and drink were continuously brought out to the ravenous and boisterous crowd. Glasses were crystal, plates were fine gold-edged porcelain and utensils were silver. In a city with little to celebrate, the unrestrained jubilation and extravagant wealth seemed so foreign and the two performers realized just how far out of their little club world they’d strayed. 

At Sharon’s word, Fame took to the stage. Every eye was on her. She first sang a slow, silky song about trusting someone for the first time after recovering from a broken heart. Sharon elegantly twirled Violet around the dance floor. They made a striking pair, both so graceful, tall and slender. Violet’s ebony locks were a stark contrast to Sharon’s ivory ones. Eyes drifted from the singer to the mob boss and the burlesque performer. Violet looked so relaxed in his arms. Fame wasn’t jealous at all of her lover being held like that by her friend, nor of all the attention the dancing couple were receiving. Not quite. 

From the stage, the chanteuse saw all. She watched as Raven danced with Violet when Sharon danced with Jujubee. He kept his hands respectably high on her back. Everyone did. Sharon’s influence was obviously keeping them in line. She had no shortage of dance partners but none of them bothered Fame until Matt danced with her. His desire was obvious and his hands were scandalously low on her back. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear. Fame wished very much that her set was finished so she could go get Violet away from ‘Pearl’ again. But Matt was charming her from the way she seemed to be laughing. At the very least, she was playing along. Fame forced her smile a little broader and continued to sing for Sharon. 

The rest of the night passed without much incident. Fame watched Violet interact flawlessly with the city’s society. She looked like she belonged there and a shadow of a doubt began to creep into Fame’s mind. She would never be able to give Violet this in any tangible way. They were only here on Sharon’s generosity. Fame would never be able to provide any real kind of life for Violet. They had their youth and beauty now but Fame couldn’t help but fear for the future. 

Violet joined the chanteuse onstage to sing ‘Happy birthday’ to Sharon, who looked benevolently upon them, evidently pleased with them. At the end of the song, Violet took Fame’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Fame couldn’t help the lingering doubts in her mind and she wasn’t quick enough to hide it from Violet. The girl’s face fell but her smile returned as Sharon approached them. 

“Ready to leave, ladies?” purred Sharon. The mob boss had been drinking a bit but he was obviously very much in control. Fame didn’t think that seeing Sharon ever out of control would be a pleasant sight. 

Violet hooked her arm into his and dropped her voice down low and sexy, “We’re ready if you are, Mr. Needles.”

He chuckled softly and turned to the singer. “You ought to hold on tight to this girl, Miss Fame. But not too tight. This one is not the kind to be held down for long. She’s a real keeper.” Sharon smiled fondly at Violet, who returned the look with a kindly one of her own. 

“Would you drop me off with Fame tonight?” she asked coyly. Sharon smiled broadly.

“Of course, my dear. ‘Tis a night to celebrate after all,” he replied, leading them to the car.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Fame had vowed not to fight with Violet that night but the girl was clearly unsettled. She did her best to please Fame but even Violet’s considerable skills were not enough to shake the feeling of inadequacy that had overtaken her. Violet was even more affectionate than usual the next morning and Fame could only look sadly at the girl and try to reciprocate. 

“See you tonight,” Violet said softly, pecking Fame on the cheek before leaving. 

“See you there,” said Fame distantly as she continued to ready herself to head to the Cosmo. Violet left without another word and the dominatrix heard the door shut behind her, leaving her alone with her thoughts. 

What the hell was she doing with this bright young girl? She could easily catch herself a fine man to marry and she could spend the rest of her days in luxury. Fame had wanted that for herself once but now her heart had hardened. This headstrong girl had come into her life and turned everything on its head. Fame had once resigned herself to a lonely life. Maybe, just maybe, for Violet’s sake she would do so again if she found it best for the girl. These were the thoughts that raced through her mind.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Fame felt ill at ease in her familiar room at the Cosmo. Her first scheduled customer of the the day was supposed to be Matt. She wondered if he’d have the courage to show up after trying to steal Violet away twice, once as each of his personas. It turned out that he did show up after all. 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here after trying to steal my lover twice,” said Fame flatly. 

“I didn’t know, ok? You sang really well yesterday by the way. I should have known Sharon would bring you two. It suits his ego to have the two most beautiful women in the city on his arms. I’ve heard he’s got unnatural stamina. How many times did he fuck you both last night?” Matt asked lewdly, transforming into Pearl seemingly without a care in the world. He didn’t even look at the dominatrix as he inquired.

“How dare you!” exclaimed Fame, scandalized. “Even if we did it would be no business of yours! You’re a married man!”

Pearl shrugged. “I do what I like. I was just curious. Sharon’s never really taken an interest in anyone the way he has with you. There was a girl for a while back but it didn’t work out. Alaska was her name. She left because he went after you. Stuck around to get your card. Surprised Sharon did just go up to you right away,” said Pearl nonchalantly. 

“Sharon’s got class. I’m glad he didn’t do that. It’s against my contract to overlap my businesses,” said Fame shortly. 

Pearl grunted in acknowledgement. She was almost done with her makeup, having it down to a science by now. 

“Are you performing tonight? I might drop by,” Pearl said, looking over at Fame as he dressed. 

“I’m scheduled for the 8pm slot tonight. Guess I’ll see you then,” said Fame blandly. The dominatrix couldn’t wait for her shift at the Cosmo to end so she could get to the club and back to Violet.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Fame’s unease grew as she walked into the club that night. Even when she had drama with Violet, none of them ignored her so completely. No one would even look her in the eyes. Apprehensively, Fame hurried towards the dressing room. The manager was in there, grilling all the other performers save for Violet. They all looked up as one as she approached.

“My office, Fame. Immediately!” the manager ordered gruffly. Fame obediently followed him, trying to ignore the stares from the other performers. As soon as the door shut behind them, he tore into her. “You’ve tainted the name of The Kit Kat Club! How dare you! After everything we’ve done for you, this is how you repay us? You’re way out of line, Fame! You violated your contract and that’s inexcusable. If you want to lower yourself like that, that’s your choice but you’re not dragging us down with you! I’ve been tolerant of you and your little shenanigans and fights with Violet because you both make us good money but this is too far! You’ve crossed a line! This is not that kind of establishment for you to solicit patrons for your deprived services at the Hotel Cosmo! Pack up you things! I never want to see you here ever again!!!” he roared. 

As soon as the shock wore off, Fame didn’t even bother to defend herself. The accusation was true after all. She hurried to pack up and leave, eager to be away from their judgmental stares. She’d have to tell Violet later.

Violet. She wasn’t there. She should have been. The realization hit Fame like a ton of bricks. There were a select group of people who knew that she was in violation of her contract. Violet was certainly one of them. Their relationship was rather rocky right now and Fame had been planning to let Violet go anyway but this was a sucker punch to get her fired too. Fame could barely breathe. Violet betrayed her trust and now she would have a hard time making ends meet because nothing would pay her as well as this gig did. And Violet didn’t even have the courage to face her.

The singer grabbed the last of her things and practically ran out the door so they wouldn’t see her cry. She began walking briskly, not caring were she went. Violet would be better off without her anyway. She should have know better. The city had changed the girl. She must have realized too that there was nothing more Fame could have given her. She find another lover before long who could spoil her and treat her like she deserved. Best not to draw it out. And this way they wouldn’t have to see each other all the time. 

A strong pair of hands grabbed her and she would have screamed had a hand not covered her mouth. She relaxed a bit when she saw it was Mister Michaels. “You can’t be seen like this. Come with me and we’ll take the car,” he said softly, not wanting to spook her any further. She nodded and let herself be led away. 

He opened the car door for her and put her next to him in the front, helping her to get settled in before he took his own seat and started the car. 

They drove in silence before pulling into the driveway of an opulent mansion. It looked a bit spooky, its gothic stylings a stark contrast to the very industrialized landscape of the rest of the city. It was exactly the sort of place Fame had always pictured as the sort of place where someone like Sharon would live.

Mister Michaels pulled into the driveway and parked the car, leading Fame inside. He settled her into a fine parlor and instructed her to make herself at home while she waited. 

Fame was too shellshocked to even take in the surroundings. Before long, the mob boss appeared before her. Without thinking, she launched herself into his arms to sob. He held her close and let her cry into his collar as he rubbed soothing circles into her back as he waited for her to cry herself out and explain. 

“Violet left me,” she blubbered inelegantly. “She told management I was in violation of my contract. I knew she was too good for me. I was going to let her go but I just… I never expected it to go like this!” she wailed. Sharon shushed her gently. 

“What makes you say that?” the mob boss asked, genuinely curious. 

Fame sniffed. “I’ll never be able to give her the life she deserves! She deserves to be treated like a princess but without a job now I can’t even provide for myself. How could I ever delude myself into thinking that I could take care of her?” Her wailing resumed. 

Sharon held her through it. “You’re certain it was Violet that ratted on you?”

“Yes,” she sighed, completely defeated.

“I’m so sorry, Fame. Do you want me to do something about her?” His meaning was clear. 

“No!” she cried, vehemently opposed. She wanted Violet be happy and told Sharon such. “She is not to be harmed!”

“Very well. I just had to offer. This is my city. No one gets away with hurting my friends,” he said, his voice dangerous. She nodded, trying to calm herself. There was a certain level of comfort in knowing that Sharon was willing to use some of his considerable influence for her. She don’t know how long she stayed there, finding sanctuary in Sharon’s steady arms.

“How are you feeling?” he asked after a long moment, genuinely concerned for the chanteuse.

“I feel… trapped. Like a bird in a cage with my wings clipped,” she said numbly. 

“Well, my pretty caged bird, why don’t you come sing for me?” he asked, a gleam in his eyes. What else could she do but accept?

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Club Seven was nothing like The Kit Kat Club. Sharon sat front and center, wearing a crown, his eyes never leaving her as she sang. The crown had been a birthday present that he had opened in private that night. Around the club, several suspicious characters milled about. One figure stood out amongst the crowd. A girl with an overdrawn face and a huge pink dress held the arm of a forgettably ordinary-looking man. Nearby, Matthew glared at her and his treacherous young husband was conspicuously absent from his side but all she could imagine was the last time she saw him, dressing in drag and speaking so unnervingly nonchalantly to her. She supposed that he had the right to after all. She was nothing now. She began to sing slowly and mournfully, her voice filling the club. The song she had choose, she thought, fitting for the girl who had left her. Perhaps there was a lesson the singer could take from it herself.

“I don’t care much,  
Go or stay,  
I don’t care very much  
Either way.”

She could feel the eyes on her, unforgiving and judging, as well as wanting and coveting. But she felt nothing. There was nothing they could do her now. Certainly nothing worse than what had already been done to her. Predominantly though, they wanted her. She could see it in their eyes. But they couldn’t have her. In this place, she belonged to Sharon. The whole city was his but this was the seat of his kingdom. And by putting her on this stage, he was making a claim on her. She was a pretty plaything to show off before the others and one would dare do anything to her now, lest they risk the wrath of the mobster who fancied himself a god.

“Hearts grow hard  
On a windy street.  
Lips grow cold  
With the rent to meet.  
So if you kiss me,  
If we touch,  
Warning’s fair,  
I don’t care  
Very much.”

Sharon had taken her in, despite her broken state and she was grateful for it. But in her heart of hearts, she knew that she still belonged to the girl. She had had her heart broken before this and had vowed to never love again until this girl had come into her life and made her remember all those things she tried so hard to forget. And now, she would never forget. The remarkable girl was her world and yet the girl’s world spun on without the singer, leaving her behind with nothing but regret and bitterness and a once again cold, hardened heart.

“I don’t care much,  
Go or stay,  
I don’t care very much  
Either way.”

It was one thing to have your youth exploited. It was quite another to have the love of your life betray you, knowing that there was nothing you could do about it. That precious girl had turned her against her and now there was another one at whom she directed her smiles and begged prettily to give her things she wanted and had dinner with her in the diner before her Friday night shows.

“Words sound false  
When your coat’s too thin  
Feet don’t waltz  
When the roof caves in  
So if you kiss me,  
If we touch,  
Warning’s fair,  
I don’t care very much.”

The crowd applauded wildly. The girl in the pink dress with too much makeup on cheered particularly loudly for her but the chanteuse took little notice. Woodenly, she took her bow and exited the stage, automatically checking her hair and makeup before joining Sharon at his table, little more than a beautiful doll for him to put on display. The girl had left her and she was nothing now.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It had been months since she seen anything of the young lovers. She had been informed that the girl had fallen into the arms of the very man that the singer had tried to warn her against. Her heart still ached from their betrayal of her but she still eagerly sought out any news of the girl, like a pathetic lovesick puppy who knew nothing better than to return to its abusive master. It was a wretched cycle of self torment she put herself through.

When a pair of detectives showed up at The Cosmo, she had a pretty good idea who had hired them. They confirmed her suspicions. It stirred something in her that she had not felt in months. She could not tell if it was love or hate but she didn’t care. She hadn’t felt anything since that fateful day. She fished out the girl’s apartment key from where it had been stashed, unforgotten this whole time. Every single day, she would pull it out and look at it and remember. She didn’t even know why she did it because it hurt her so much. She’d vowed to let her go but in wasn’t so easy in practice.

But something must had happened and the girl was in the middle of it and she couldn’t resist the urge to get to the bottom of this matter once and for all and then she’d leave the girl alone and get over her ridiculous obsession with her. Or that’s what she told herself. The girl might be in danger and need her help. How could she resist that?  
She’d promised her once that they’d be okay and that they’d get through everything this cruel and unforgiving world threw at them. Even after everything she’d done, the singer loved the girl and she’d do anything for her. This girl, she knew, would be the death of her one day. Like a moth to a flame, Miss Fame was once again drawn back to Violet Chachki.


	7. I’d Marry You If I Could (Prequel - Violet's POV)

It was certainly nicer than anything she’d ever known. Being with Fame that was. Violet had thought her heart stone after what Santino did to her but it wasn’t true. She still loved but she never let herself get attached to anyone she romanced. Maybe it was because she’d always been in love with Fame, the seductive chanteuse she worked with. But they were nightclub performers. The only way either of them would survive would be by making those with money believe they were in love. It was a lonely way to live, but they had chosen it for themselves. 

Perhaps that was what drew the women to each other. They knew what it was like to fake a relationship and how much of a struggle it was to hold a real one. Fame had once expressed a desire to marry her and Violet wanted to but they both knew that it would be an impossibility. They loved each other so very much but their jobs didn’t permit such a thing. Society was far harsher on adulterers even if they both knew what the other was up to. If they married, they’d be out on the street unable to support themselves. 

Perhaps then, their breakup was inevitable in a way. The part-time dominatrix and the burlesque performer who sold the illusion of love and companionship were simply not meant to be. 

At least, that’s what Violet told herself. The truth was far murkier. She and Fame had fought today which was nothing new. But it was over a patron, which was not something they had fought about before. Pearl her name was. And she was gorgeous and rich and she had taken a liking to Violet. She was one of Fame’s clients but she hadn’t stopped seeing the dominatrix so Violet didn’t see what the problem was but Fame was so adamantly against Violet seeing her and had yet to give her a real reason why. 

Violet had had a date with the lovely Mrs. Kasha Davis that had turned into cocktails and dancing. It had run late and she hadn’t gotten to the club as early as usual. Conversations stopped as soon as the others saw her. It wasn’t something she was unused to but since she and Fame had started dating it had stopped and its sudden reemergence had Violet on edge. Had something happened?

She quickened her steps in search of Fame. Her lover would know. She reached the dressing room and saw a fed-up Bianca fitting a fidgety Adore into a brand new corset as the other girls ran around manically. 

“Where’s Fame?” She asked no one in particular. 

“Not here,” replied Bianca through gritted teeth. “You move one more time bitch and I will stab you with a pin.” 

Adore whined. “But it’s too tight, B!”

“It’s a corset, honey. It’s supposed to be tight.”

Adore slumped her shoulders. “How am I supposed to sing like this?”

“Fame does it all the time,” added Violet unhelpfully. She was bitter and just wanted her lover. It wasn’t like her to be so late. The room got silent and Violet looked around suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

“Oh my god you haven’t heard,” said Bendela quietly. 

“Heard what?” snapped Violet. “Someone better tell me,” she demanded. 

“Oh baby I’m so sorry,” whispered Adore sympathetically. 

“Stop giving me that look and tell me what happened,” she growled sullenly. 

“Fame quit. Or she got fired. No one’s sure. She came in and said she had to leave immediately. Couldn’t stay. I helped her pack,” said Bianca, far too cheerfully for Violet’s taste. 

“She’s gone?” Violet asked numbly. With those words her world came crashing down. “What do you mean she’s gone?!” she demanded. 

“Just that. She’s gone, Miss Chachki. She’s not coming back to this club ever again. Call your girlfriend, Miss Violet. Get the story from her. No one in here knows anything more.” Bianca got the last word and Violet started to get ready for the show, hardening her heart against Adore’s sympathetic stares and the pointed whispering of the others. All of that didn’t matter. The show must go on. 

The show and its patrons didn’t care if her lover had left with no warning. She and Fame had been fighting and the chanteuse had seemed more elusive and unreceptive as of late. Fear and doubt preyed upon her mind. Fame no doubt had had it with Violet’s lifestyle and Pearl had been the last straw. She didn’t love Violet anymore and this was her chance to leave her finally. Not even a goodbye. How cowardly. 

Tears began to form unbidden in the burlesque performer’s eyes and she dabbed at the traitorous tears with her dainty handkerchief. Best not to show any weakness in front of these girls. Fame had been their friend and already they were gossiping about her. Violet was not their friend and she had no illusions about what they really thought of her. If she didn’t make the club so much money, they probably wouldn’t even be this nice to her. 

Except Adore. Violet caught those big sad eyes looking at her, plump lips parted. It made Violet either want to punch the singer or otherwise wipe that look off her face. She was a good singer but her style was so different from Fame’s. Fame was polished perfection and Adore was, well, the opposite. Nothing about Adore was polished. She wouldn’t ever be able to replace Fame. Not truly. 

Violet put on her performer’s face and put on a show. She felt reckless and dangerous, and it was liberating in a way, not having a lover backstage to scold her. Her stomach twisted at the reminder that Fame wasn’t backstage waiting for her but the girl didn’t let it show. She showered the patrons with her attention. Miss O'Hara was looking particularly grumpy tonight. Mr. Michaels wasn’t with her. Perhaps they were fighting too. Violet made sure to give her some attention, surprising the other girl. Violet smirked, having fun playing with her audience. They tipped her well and she rewarded them with flirtations and even a brief peck on the cheek for a particularly generous patron. The music ended and Violet collected her tips. She felt alive for the first time in months. That quickly faded once she was offstage though. 

Doubt crossed her mind and she went out front to use the telephone. No answer. She kept trying, hoping Fame would pick up. She don’t know how long she let it ring before someone tapped her on the shoulder and asked if she were done. She was done, she supposed. Perhaps she had gone to the Cosmo because Fame wasn’t home. Or she was and assumed it was Violet calling and didn’t want to talk to her. Either scenario made Violet very unhappy. 

Violet stumbled backstage despite not having a drop of alcohol in her system. Heartbreak did funny things to the body and mind. Thankfully backstage was pretty empty by now, the other performers out on the floor getting drinks from adoring patrons. Adore was there, sitting at Fame’s empty vanity, frowning at herself in the mirror. 

Violet stopped to stare at her and Adore startled, clearly ashamed at being caught. “I’m sorry! It’s just… She left big shoes to fill. She’s been here such a long time,” murmured Adore. Violet’s face hardened even further. “I didn’t mean it that way! God I’m such a mess. I’m so sorry about what happened. Maybe you should try calling her?” Adore suggested earnestly. 

“I already did,” replied Violet brusquely. 

“Oh… I’m so sorry, Vi,” Adore said softly, ignoring the other girl’s stiffening posture and enveloped Violet in a tight hug. “You seem like you could use someone right now,” she whispered in her ear. “I know I’m not Fame and I never will be, but maybe I can help you. Just give me tonight.”

Violet contemplated Adore’s offer. Losing herself in the messy singer’s loose waves and soft curves was certainly preferable to spending the night alone wallowing in misery. She relaxed into Adore’s embrace and buried her head into her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her hair. No, she wasn’t Fame. But she would give her tonight and that would be enough. 

“Would you like to come to my place?” the burlesque performer asked softly. The singer pulled back to look at Violet’s face and gage her sincerity. Violet hated herself for the vulnerability Adore must have seen there but the girl broke into a genuine smile. 

“I would love to,” she said, a touch of eagerness slipping into her voice. Violet cracked a small smile.

“Let me get my things,” she purred, laying on the seduction. Not that Adore needed any encouragement. She tripped over her own feet in her haste to help Violet get out the door quicker. They left the club, Adore’s hand too low on her tiny waist and Violet giving her bedroom eyes, unaware that Miss O'Hara was watching them. She trailed them back to Violet’s, dreading reporting back to Sharon but knowing she must. 

Violet didn’t know that Fame wasn’t at home because she was with her most powerful patron. Miss O'Hara arrived to find Fame with Sharon, having just vented her feelings and fears to the mob boss. Violet didn’t know that Fame thought she had betrayed her, and her quick exit with Adore only confirmed these suspicions in her mind. Violet didn’t know how much Fame cried into Sharon’s arms that night and many nights since. 

All Violet knew was that Pearl came to her show the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. And every night thereafter. Always tipping her generously and eying her suggestively. Violet didn’t see what was so bad about her. Before long she gave into Pearl’s advances and let the other girl buy her things and touch her body. She was adverse to getting naked herself but Violet had seen stranger things. She would pose for the photographer, who letting the girl model dressed or undressed for her as she pleased. She gave Violet a crown to wear naked and Violet did. She had no idea then that this would cause a chain of events that would forever change her life. She probably would have listened to Fame and stayed away if only she had known.


	8. Chapter 3 - For Whom The Bell Tolls

Katya could only mess up Trixie's lipstick so many times before the secretary put her foot down and insisted that they call Max. It wasn't like the younger detective to be late to work. He had been left alone to investigate their client, a Miss Violet Chachki, who also happened to be a suspect in this strange and convoluted case. Katya wasn't entirely sure what she suspected Miss Chachki of but she was no doubt guilty of something. 

Her lover Pearl's disappearance may not be entirely of her making but there was far more going on than what she claimed and Katya and her partner were determined to get to the bottom of it all. Leaving the young investigator with her had been admittedly a bit of a gamble but Katya hoped she would open up more than just her legs to him. 

The beautiful broad probably had convinced him to go another round this morning, making him late to work. Katya couldn't really complain. Miss Chachki was admittedly very sexy and the Russian herself had done the very same thing to Trixie this morning. 

"Fine, call him. He's not there. Better to call Miss Chachki first," grumbled Katya, not letting go of Trixie's curvaceous hips as she began to dial on the rotary. She continued to press kisses to the secretary's neck, relishing the shivers her movements elicited. As Katya had expected, no one was answering the phone at Max's flat. "Told you," she gloated. 

Trixie pursed her lips and grabbed the client book to look up Miss Chachki's number. She dialed it and Violet picked up after the second ring.

"Hello?" Her sultry voice floated over the line.  
"Miss Chachki, it's Miss Mattel from Zamolodchikova & Malanaphy, Private Investigators. Mr. Malanaphy wouldn't happen to be there with you, would he?" Trixie asked gently. 

"He isn't. You mean to say he hasn't come in to work this morning?" she asked, clearly concerned or at least faking it very well. 

"He has not. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" Trixie asked suspiciously. 

"You aren't suggesting I have something to do with that?" Violet asked, clearly offended. She scoffed. "Of course you do. Yes, Max spent the night with me. I woke up to a note saying that he didn't want to be late to work. I was just getting ready to come to your office." Worry was starting to creep into her voice, cracking that offended tone. 

Suddenly, Violet gasped with realization. "Fame knew!" 

"Knew what?" Katya stole the receiver from Trixie. Her own interrogation of Miss Fame had been unfruitful. She hadn't even determined if Pearl had gone to see Fame after disappearing from Violet. 

"That Max was with me last night, Detective." She said the last word sarcastically. "And if she knew, the mob knew. This is all my fault." Violet seemed to be upset but Katya didn't trust her. 

"Why don't you come in, Miss Chachki?" asked Katya brusquely. 

"I got Max into this mess. If I can, I'm going to get him out of it. And since you don't believe me, why don't you ask Fame where he is instead?" Violet hung up abruptly. 

Trixie and Katya exchanged a meaningful look. "Perhaps we should call Fame. Maybe she knows where Miss Chachki is headed at least," suggested Trixie gently.

Katya nodded, already putting on her hat and coat and getting ready to head out. 

Trixie dialed Fame and the chanteuse picked up after a few rings. "Hello?" Fame, not unlike Violet, had a very sexy way of saying hello over the phone. 

"Miss Fame? Hi, it's Miss Mattel from Zamolodchikova & Malanaphy, Private Investigators. We just spoke with Miss Chachki regarding Mr. Malanaphy's disappearance this morning. She claimed it was both her fault and your doing and hung up abruptly on us. Any chance you know where she might be headed?"

"Oh my god!" gasped Fame. "She's gone to see Sharon!"

"Sharon? Sharon Needles?" gasped Trixie. It had taken her a moment to place the name. "He's in the mob?" Surely that slender man wasn't. He was charismatic yes, but a mob boss? Trixie couldn't believe it. 

Fame laughed darkly, "Oh sweetheart, he's not just in the mob. He runs it. And this place. He's the god of this city, Miss Mattel. It's Sharon's world and we're all just living in it. If Violet has gone to see Sharon, she'll be tortured or killed or worse! She had Sharon's crown. She might still. You and Dectective Zamolodchikova have to help me stop her! I'll be at Club Seven in ten minutes. Be there if you'll help. I beg you, Miss Mattel, Violet may not be the kindest person but she doesn't deserve to fall into their hands. I shudder to think what they'll do to her."

"I'll talk to Katya and we'll see you there," promised Trixie. 

"Thank you, Miss Mattel. If I don't see you soon, I'll go find Violet myself. We can't delay!" stressed Fame, panic seeping into her voice. 

"Katya..." began the secretary. Katya had a hard look on her face, already dreading what Trixie had to tell her. 

The sound of their door being pushed open started the couple. Trixie screamed at the sight of Max covered in blood being helped in by a beautiful girl. Katya immediately went to help her with Max, laying the barely conscious young man down on the office sofa normally used by the weeping widows and paranoid old men who usually employed their services.

"What happened? Who are you?" demanded the Russian of the pretty, dark-haired girl. 

"I'm Kandy," she said. "I found him facedown in the gutter. Whoever did this got him real good. He asked me to take him here. I can't stay though." She looked at them expectantly. Trixie sighed and went to the back office. Katya stared the girl down for a second before turning to Max. 

"You look pretty awful there, partner," said Katya softly, examining his visible wounds. Kandy had apparently cleaned them and staunched the bleeding, dressing the worst of it. Whoever had gotten to Max had clearly left him to die and if not for the girl's timely intervention, he almost certainly would have. Katya put the back of her hand on his pale brow. Clammy and feverish. He wasn't out of the woods just yet. 

Trixie reemerged and handed Kandy a few bills. "For your time, Miss Ho," she said. The girl nodded and left without another word. 

"Miss... Ho?" ventured the detective. 

"Don't ask," evaded Trixie. "How is he though?"

"Not good. Not good at all. Call a doctor, angel. He's hurt real bad," said Katya, trying to hide her concern for her young partner. 

Trixie picked up the phone once again and called for a doctor to come urgently as Katya pushed the hair out of Max's eyes. He moaned softly, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. 

"I've called Dr. DuJour. He's coming straightaway. He owes us for that case you did for him. He'll help Max. You stay here. I'm going down to the corner to get him some aspirin. Put some ice on the swelling," instructed Trixie as she gathered her purse and left. 

Katya did as she was told and held Max's hand in both of hers. His eyelids fluttered open. "Max! Are you alright?" exclaimed Katya. 

"Not so loud," he groaned. "Violet, where is she? Is she safe?"

"Safe? She set you up!" protested the Russian. Max groaned again at the volume of Katya's voice. "Look at you!" 

"She didn't. Whoever that man was, he's no friend of hers. Violet's in danger! He's after the crown. He's going to hurt her, Katya. We have to do something!"

"The only thing we're doing is making sure you get better," groused Katya.

"But Violet-!" started Max, trying to get up but immediately collapsing.

"No, nothing about that troublesome dame right now. You're no good to anyone like this," said Katya gently, helping Max lay back down. "Do you remember anything about your attacker?"

"It's a bit foggy. I was leaving Violet's apartment when a man struck me in the head twice. I woke up some time later, with an awful headache and ringing in my ears." He paused to take a breath. "I was bound and blindfolded but my assailant was definitely a man. He wanted to know everything about Violet. He knew I spent the night with her so he certainly knows where she lives." He groaned and held his head, his eyes screwed shut. "And I think he wanted to know if she had that crown. I didn't tell him anything. He probably figured I was just someone she took home and left me to die when he realized I wasn't going to tell him anything useful." 

The Russian's mouth fell open in shock. Her partner had to have been tougher than she gave him credit for to endure such a beating and give up nothing at all about himself or Violet. Katya still didn't believe that Violet hadn't set him up. Her setting him up was still more likely than Fame, their other potential suspect. 

Fame had been nothing but open with them while Violet was defensive and guarded. More than that, Katya had a feeling that the burlesque performer had more dangerous secrets while the singing dominatrix had nothing more to hide. Now that she had hurt Max, Katya vowed she would stop at nothing to see her sent up. She belonged behind bars and the Russian detective would be the one to put her there. 

Katya was brought out of her plans of vengeance by Trixie's return. She'd apparently run into Dr. DuJour, who had made excellent time in getting to their office. 

"Don't give Max that aspirin tablet yet, Trixie. And Katya, let me see him. He's certainly got a concussion to say nothing of other injuries." The good doctor immediately took command of the situation, running Max through a series of tests and asking him questions about how he was feeling. Katya went to stand next to her lover. They exchanged worried looks as they watched Dr. DuJour work at his profession. 

After several minutes, he gave them his diagnosis. "A severe concussion and multiple contusions and lacerations. A miracle, but nothing seems to be broken. I'll stitch up the worst of it and he should be fine. Take the week off, Max. And Katya, get the police involved. Whatever you're investigating, it's clearly dangerous," he indicated Max's injuries. "It was terrifying enough getting one call- I don't want a another one for one of you girls." 

"But Violet's in danger!" protested Max. The groan he emitted at sitting up quickly did not help his argument any. 

"Violet?" asked the doctor, an eyebrow raised as he began to prep Max's jagged skin. 

"Max has a bit of an infatuation and the concussion must be clouding his judgement, doctor," grumbled Katya, her accent thickening with her disapproval. 

"Not the dancer Violet Chachki? She's a beautiful dame. Nice girl too," he said, a faraway look overtook his handsome features. Katya's expression darkened, not liking one bit that the good doctor had somehow already made the untrustworthy girl's acquaintance.

Trixie's expression mirrored her own and Max seemed not to have heard, a pained look twisting his features into an anguished mask. The doctor came back to himself. 

He stitched the open wounds shut effortlessly. Max impressively didn't even flinch though the entire process. "Trixie, Katya would you help me redress Max's wounds? And then make sure he gets home to rest and don't let him come back to work for at least a week. Stay in bed, Max. That's doctor's orders," he said sternly, his fatherly concern for the trio shining through. "And don't pull at the stitches. Come back in a week or two when they've healed up and I'll take them out. Take care, all of you." The doctor departed amiably with another warning to Max to make sure he rested. 

Katya ran down the stairs after the doctor to ask him something that had been bothering her. "What did you mean about Violet Chachki earlier?"

"She's a bright young thing in a harsh world that would sooner snuff out her light than help her shine. I pity her but she doesn't want pity. She wants nothing to do with me now but I still worry about her. Maybe Max would be good for her. He's a rare gem in this world too," the doctor said earnestly.

Katya sputtered. "But she did that to him!" the detective exclaimed.

"You don't really think that, do you Katya?" asked Dr. DuJour levelly. "Whatever trouble she's in, it's too much for you, Max and Trixie to handle on your own. Call the police, Katya." He nodded to her and left, leaving her standing dumbstruck on the sidewalk outside her office. 

Katya lit a cigarette in anger and stewed over the good doctor's words. He was entangled in her web too. Violet poisoned everyone she came in contact with and Katya hoped Max would see reason when he'd recovered. She'd gotten what she wanted from Max and obviously he was of no further use to her now that this associate of hers couldn't crack him. Katya was already imagining her surprise when Max turned up alive. дерьмо. She was probably already blowing town and they'd missed their opportunity to go with Fame to catch her. Katya stomped out her cigarette and ran back upstairs. 

Angry whispering greeted her and the Russian arrived to witness her lover and her partner arguing. They never argued. "What's going on here?" she asked, whispering loudly like they were. 

"We missed our chance to meet up with Fame and find Violet," said Trixie, keeping her voice down for Max's sake. "Max won't rest until he sees Violet safe," she hissed. 

Max looked exasperated. "Surely there's something we can do," he pleaded. Katya and Trixie wore matching unyielding looks as they stared down at the young detective. He sighed and laid back down unhappily, realizing that he wasn't going to win this one. 

The lovers exchanged a worried look, united in their opposition to his attachment to their client but pleased he was finally giving it a rest. Silently, they crept into the back room. 

"We'll need to touch base with Fame at least," began Trixie. Katya nodded in agreement. 

"I fear Miss Chachki may be blowing town. Miss Fame may not be able to find her," grumbled the detective. "There doesn't seem to be much we can do but look after Max."

The secretary raised an eyebrow slightly. "What if she hasn't gotten what she was after yet? And where would she go? I doubt we've seen the last of that she-devil." Trixie's eyes flashed dangerously. 

"You're not still mad at me for taking this case, are you, Trix?" asked Katya hesitantly. 

"It can't be helped now, Kat. At least Max is alive and looks like he'll recover now. I'm worried about how deeply Violet has her hooks in him though. We need to figure out what exactly she wants. If she really wanted Pearl back, she probably wouldn't have seduced Max unless it would help her in some way. And if she doesn't want Pearl, what does she want? We'll have to ask Fame more about this crown of Mr. Needles'. You may yet get your chance to put Miss Chachki behind bars," Trixie thought out loud, knowing exactly what her lover was thinking. "Perhaps Dr. DuJour is right about calling the police if we're dealing with the mob though."

The Russian scoffed. "They're incompetent. They know it's too dangerous for them to take on the mob or else they would have done it by now. They know it's better to lay low and turn a blind eye to what's really going on in this city. Mr. Needles is skilled, to remain relatively undetected and yet be the most dangerous person in this city."

"He's very dangerous, Katya. He believes himself a god and no one dares contradict him. He's glutted on power and wealth and beauty. I wonder how Fame knows him," she trailed off. 

"How do you for that matter?" inquired the detective.

"I don't know him personally but I've certainly seen him. He's gaunt and pale, with unnaturally white hair. He's clearly a man of wealth and taste. He's charismatic and sympathetic. The Devil made flesh." Trixie shuddered. "I'm thankfully not pretty enough to draw his eye. No doubt Fame did and Violet will, if she hasn't already."

"You're more than beautiful in my eyes," assured Katya. 

"Flatterer," she evaded. "You can't tell me I'm prettier than Fame or Violet." She turned away, her insecurities getting the better of her. 

"Don't say that," said Katya as she enveloped the younger girl in her arms, pulling the girl's plush posterior to her and pressing her breasts against Trixie's back and they embraced. "You're the prettiest," Katya whispered as she sucked a kiss on the tendon in her secretary's neck. Her hands mischievously wandered under the girl's short skirt and up past the waistband of her pantyhose, finally reaching into her silky drawers and finding her incredibly slick underneath. No wonder she didn't pull away. "Naughty," whispered the Russian with a breathy laugh. 

"Shut up and get to it," growled Trixie, grinding back against her lover. "We don't have a lot of time. We should-" Katya cut her off with a possessive kiss, renewing her efforts and feeling Trixie's immediate response as she inserted a couple fingers and rubbed at her already erect bud. Katya savored the way she was causing her lover to squirm and beg and moan, rutting animalistically against her fingers and desperately seeking her release. Katya felt herself become slick as she focused on bringing Trixie over the edge. 

Just as she was almost there, their office door opened abruptly, startling the lovers apart. Trixie recovered faster and cursing pulled her skirt and hose back into some semblance of normal as she scurried to investigate the source if the noise. 

Katya stared after her dumbfounded, slickness still coating her fingers and rapidly becoming tacky as she hurried after her lover, determined to get rid of their visitor immediately so she could finish what they had started. 

The sight of their visitor made Katya see red. Violet Chachki had returned and she was looking at Max in horror, a matching expression on his battered face. I'm going to kill that girl, she thought to herself. Prison is too good for her.  
Trixie screamed suddenly, startling them all out of their haze. A single shaking finger was raised in the burlesque performer's direction and Katya finally saw what was the matter. Violet's usually impeccable clothing was torn and tattered and soaked in a significant quantity of fresh blood. The girl herself was pale and shaking. Max stood to help her and his body betrayed him, sending him back down to the couch. 

"Stay where you are, Max," ordered Trixie sternly. "We need to get you out of those clothes, Miss Chachki." Those big doe eyes turned to look at the secretary uncomprehendingly. Her body twitched involuntarily and she was clearly in shock so Trixie took her gently by the hands to lead her into the office they'd just vacated. "Let me help you," she said gently, trying not to spook their girl any further. 

The two detectives could only watch in surprise and dismay as their client was lead away by their secretary. Trixie shut the door behind them and they turned to each other. 

"What?" Katya asked, struggling to form even the one word. 

"I- I don't know. She didn't say anything. She looked surprised to see me. I do look pretty awful right now," he admitted, chuckling darkly. 

"The real question here is was that her blood or someone else's?" Katya's mind was in overdrive, trying to explain what had just happened and how much danger she might have just lead to them. A knock startled them both and Katya drew her revolver as she went to answer it. 

"Katya!" hissed Max, seeing the loaded gun in his partner's hand. But the Russian already had thrown the door open, aiming the handgun at the person outside. 

"Are you threatening an officer, detective?" Officer Fierce didn't seem pleased at all to see the gun aimed at him but he wasn't threatened. He held his hand out for it. Katya lowered her weapon but didn't hand it over. Three more policemen Katya didn't recognize followed him in. 

"May we help you, Officers?" drawled Katya casually, trying to pretend she hadn't just pointed a gun at a policeman and that her partner wasn't a battered wreck on their couch. Officer Fierce walked in casually, taking in their office and Katya's clear nervousness and Max's injuries. 

"You often have blood on your floors, detectives?" one of them asked. 

"Max was assaulted returning home last night," said Katya truthfully. 

"That is unfortunate," another police officer said, "but these prints are high-heeled. Not exactly your style, Detective. And I don't see your secretary anywhere about."

"She's working on something," said Max quickly. "She not here."

"Look, I'm not here to threaten you two. Please don't make this any harder than it has to be," Officer Fierce took a deep breath. He unclipped the handcuffs from his belt as the detectives looked to each other in alarm. "I'll need you both to come with us down to the station. I have a warrant here for your arrests for the murder of the singer known as Miss Fame."

Max locked eyes with Katya, wordlessly begging her not to look at the door that that bloody girl had just gone through and alert the officers to her presence. The officer who noticed the bloody floor was disarming her and roughly cuffing Katya's hands behind her back but she didn't look away from Max's pleading eyes as he was handcuffed much more gently by Officer Fierce. Katya spitefully wiped her sticky fingers on the officer's cuff as the four police officers led the two detectives out.


	9. Chapter 4 - Kind Hearts and Coronets

Katya was livid. Completely furious. Utterly pissed. Why on earth hadn’t she turned in that no good, dirty rotten dame? A glance over at the adjoining cell at her partner reminded her. Damn his angelic face with its pleading puppy eyes. The police station had called a doctor in to examine Max’s injuries and he’d come to the same diagnosis that Dr. DuJour had. They let Max rest while they interrogated Katya. 

The cops were patronizing, saying they’d never hit a lady but after a few minutes of her defiance the same cop who had cuffed her at the office had backhanded her across the face as she sat handcuffed to the interrogation desk. Officer Fierce had intervened then and dismissed the other cops, questioning Katya alone. He showed the Russian photographs of the crime scene and the corpse. Someone had emptied a six gun into Miss Fame’s lovely body and her beautiful face was frozen in a grimace of surprise and horror, eyes wide even in death. Someone had not left her survival to chance. The image was chilling and Katya couldn’t hide her dismay at the murder of not only one of their primary sources, but also a woman of whom Katya had grown fond of. The singing dominatrix hadn’t deserved this fate that her dangerous ex-lover had no doubt brought upon her. 

Both a man’s and a woman’s footprints were found at the scene, as well as tire tracks and a card for Club Seven and Fame’s calling card for The Hotel Cosmo. Her body was left on the docks, the killer or killers not even bothering to hide the body in the seedy neighborhood. It didn’t seem like she had be brought there. What was Fame doing at the docks?

The only person Katya knew who might have any idea was last seen covered in blood being lead into the back office by her secretary. 

As much as Katya wanted to believe that Violet and her mysterious associate had killed Fame and beat up Max, something wasn’t adding up. Doubtlessly Violet would lie but Katya still needed to hear her side of the story and to do that she and Max needed to get out of here and soon. 

The heavy metal door clanked open, revealing a big, beautiful woman wielding a nightstick. She was clearly large and in charge. This couldn’t possibly get any worse, thought Katya. The woman inspected Max, sleeping fitfully in his cell, before making her way over to Katya. 

“Why so angry?” she asked as she strolled in. 

“I never expected to be in jail,” said Katya plainly. 

“You didn’t think looking the way you look- you didn’t think that was a crime? It’s so rare we have a woman in here,” she continued. “Especially one as beautiful as you. Those pigs out there need to get a grip, girl. Good God! Marking up your pretty mug like they did. Bet they told you they’d never hit a lady too. Sexist jerks. No respect. No respect at all. The level of unprofessionalism is far too high here. They must not know who you are!”

“I’m sorry, but do we know each other?” inquired Katya, the Russian detective thrown off by this unexpected sympathy. She had worked hard to get where she was but she had no idea anyone, let alone a stranger, found her admirable. 

“Not yet, detective. But I know who you are. Everyone should. No other woman does what you do!” the guard exclaimed excitedly. 

“And what is it that I do?” asked Katya, genuinely baffled. She and Max were well respected detectives it was true, but Katya wasn’t sure how this made her such a legend to this prison guard.  
She scoffed at Katya’s confusion. “You don’t even know! You’re a woman in a man’s world and yet no one makes you feel less. Your partner clearly looks up to you and you don’t take shit from no one. You’ve gotten where you are by sheer determination and hard work. And you’ve got your pick of the sexy ladies of this city.” 

Katya wasn’t used to such a wanting gaze directed at her. She knew she could be sexy if she put her mind to it but she normally reserved those moves for Trixie. Most times, she didn’t care for her looks, finding them a distraction or worse, a reason to discredit her. This woman seemed to admire her for more though. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Oh where are my manners!” She guffawed loudly. “I’m Latrice Royale but you can all me me mama. And if you be good to mama, mama’ll be good to you!” She winked. 

Katya returned her wink. Well, that was an interesting turn of events. The prison guard was lovely but the detective wanted nothing more than to hold Trixie in her arms again. Katya wasn’t Miss Chachki but she could try to emulate that slippery seductress if it helped her get out of here. 

The door clanked open a second time revealing Officer Fierce followed closely by Trixie and the slippery seductress herself. The femme fatale had cleaned up and she looked composed again, devastatingly beautiful even with unshed tears shining in her eyes. She was saying something to the policeman and he was clearly buying whatever she was selling.

She’d also apparently styled Trixie as well, softening her normally overdone makeup and dressing her far more tastefully than Katya had ever seen. Her mouth dropped at the stunning pair. Trixie came to her, immediately gasping at the sight of the bruise blooming in her cheek. 

“Katya! What happened?” asked Trixie shrilly, clearly alarmed. 

“I’m afraid one of our officers got a little rough in his interrogation,” confessed Officer Fierce. Violet gasped dramatically. 

“How awful! And Katya’s innocent!” she looked pleadingly at the police officer. 

“I know, Miss Chachki,” he tried to reassure her, “Your testimony is sufficient to release them but any other leads you might have would be helpful. I know this must be hard for you, to lose Miss Fame after losing Miss Brooks a few years ago. If you ever need anything, you can always call me,” he offered kindly. 

Violet blinked back tears. “Thank you, officer. Knowing you’re the one on the case is a great comfort to me. Fame didn’t deserve this,” her voice broke and the tears fell in earnest. Katya doubted a lot about Violet but not that she genuinely loved Fame once. It was likely she still did to some extent. The police man and prison guard were quick to rush to comfort her and dry her tears. 

“I’m sorry,” she said weakly once she had stopped sobbing. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to release these detectives so they can escort me home. I’m afraid I’ve had a rather trying day, seeing Fame like that,” she sniffled. The law enforcers rushed to release the innocent detectives. Latrice unlocked Max’s cell first and Violet stepped in to gently wake him. 

A gentle hand on his brow was enough to cause his eyelids to flutter open. “Violet!” He gasped. “You’re ok!”

“I’m so sorry, Max. I never meant for you to get hurt helping me,” she said softly. “Let’s get you home to rest comfortably.” 

“You’ve been crying,” he noted. 

She laughed softly and bitterly. “You’re hurt, Fame is dead and Pearl is still missing. I’m not exactly a lucky girl right now.” The last she spoke almost to herself. “Let’s get you home, Max. Best to follow the good Dr. DuJour’s orders. Let me help you.” Max allowed it and leaned on her for support, uprighting himself as Latrice unlocked Katya’s cell, releasing her into Trixie’s welcoming arms. Katya caught a glimpse of Miss Royale smiling fondly at them as Officer Fierce couldn’t look away from Violet and Max. They did make a striking pair, even with the young Englishman in such a sorry state. 

All pale, flawless skin and long limbs, her dark silky hair a lovely contrast to his prematurely silver locks. Both of them were shockingly beautiful, faces worthy of being carved eternally into marble for generations to admire.

Max slumped against Violet as she aided him to walk out of his cell. Trixie stood aside so Katya could exit, knowing her lover would be eager to get out of the confined space. 

“Mr. Malanaphy’s injuries were sustained while on your case then, Miss Chachki?” inquired the police officer. 

Violet looked mournfully at him. “Yes. I never meant for any of this to happen. It’s all my fault Detective Malanaphy was hurt. Mr. Caliente is still behind bars, correct?”

“He is indeed. Don’t hesitate to call us, Miss Chachki. Please take care,” said the police officer earnestly, worry creeping into his tone as he showed them out. 

“Thank you, Officer, Warden,” Violet said as they left. 

The four were silent on their way to Violet’s car. Trixie exchanged worried looks with her lover. Violet seemed deep in thought when she wasn’t directly helping Max. Even the small effort of walking out of the building was taking its toll on him. 

“Here Miss Mattel,” said Violet as she handed over the keys. Her car was big and elegant with a broad backseat and imported wood paneling and chrome. It was handmade and classy and if Katya had to guess, Violet had had a hand in the design even if she didn’t pay for the luxury car.

Katya opted to join Violet and Max in the backseat, fully intending to interrogate the dame. Once they were all seated, Trixie began to start the car. Max dozed against Violet’s slender shoulder, the burlesque performer tenderly shifting his hair out of his closed eyes. Katya and Trixie exchanged a look through the rearview mirror. 

“Alright Miss Chachki, talk. What the hell just happened?” demanded Katya sternly. 

Violet looked up from the sleeping detective wide eyed. 

“You know what happened, Detective. Fame was murdered trying to save me. She didn’t deserve to die. Especially not on my account,” said Violet, pain evident in her voice. 

“You might have put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger yourself. Fame is dead and Max is hurt because of you and you know it. You need to be straight with us for once in your crooked little life,” accused Katya harshly. “All you’ve done is lie and use and probably steal!”

Violet looked shellshocked at the accusations. Even Trixie looked back in concern at the harshness of Katya’s tone. The Russian was just getting warmed up. 

“We’re all in danger because of you! And for what? A lover you don’t even seem to care about!”

Violet’s face looked like a storm cloud. “And why should I tell you anything? Even now you won’t believe me! Everyone I’ve ever loved has been taken from me, in one way or another! You think I don’t know Fame was murdered because of me? And that this happened to Max because of me? You think I don’t feel guilty? No, of course not. In fact, you think I’m responsible! I loved Fame more than anyone else in my life! And you have the audacity to tell me I killed her and that I never loved her! How dare you!” Violet bit her lip, holding back tears she refused to let fall. 

“Katya! That’s enough!” cried Trixie from the driver’s seat, slamming on the brakes and jolting Max awake. She whipped around to stare down the three. “Violet just got you two out of prison and lest we forget she is our client. Pearl is still missing and Max’s assailant and now Fame’s murderer are still at large. Yes, we are all in danger. But we’re not going to solve this case if we don’t all work together starting right now! Do you all understand me?” she demanded. 

Cowed, the three nodded. 

“I take it I missed something,” said Max wryly after a moment. 

“That may be so.” Katya smiled fondly at her partner. “Alright, so what do we do now, Miss Mattel?” Katya said a touch bitterly. 

Trixie shot her a warning glare. 

“We take Max home,” declared Violet. “No sense in him doing anything but getting better.”

“And what about you?” asked Max worriedly. 

“I’ve got a show tonight. I don’t have to be there for a few hours so I figured I’d go home,” she replied unconcerned. 

“You can’t. They know where you live. The man who attacked me knew about us, knew about the crown. It’s not safe, Vi. Stay with me instead. Please,” he begged. 

“Max!” exclaimed Katya disapprovingly. 

“No, it makes the most sense,” Trixie agreed. “Max needs looking after and Violet needs somewhere else to stay. Katya and I will go to your place and get you anything you may need, Miss Chachki. And we’ll stay with Max while you’re at the club tonight,” she declared, daring Katya to contradict her. 

Katya looked at the others and knew she wasn’t going to win this one. She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, opting to stare out the window in sullen silence as Trixie restarted the car and resumed driving them to Max’s apartment. 

They made the rest of the journey in silence, Max and Violet taking comfort in each other’s arms while Katya sulked and Trixie drove. 

Finally, Trixie broke the silence. “I don’t wish to be indelicate, Miss Chachki, but it’s rather apparent that you’re previously acquainted with Officer Fierce. He mentioned you lost someone else, a Miss Brooks?”

Violet smiled sadly. “Nicole…” She trailed off wistfully. “Miss Nicole Paige Brooks from Atlanta, Georgia. She had a fondness for cherry pah,” she adopted a strong southern accent for the last. “The first woman I ever loved. I didn’t know it at the time but Fame was incredibly jealous of her. Fame had loved me the whole time she knew me and I didn’t even know it was possible for two women to love each other like that. But then I met Miss Brooks and she was… home. We were so happy together. She came to all my shows and one night I went out to meet her afterwards and she wasn’t there. I called her and asked if anyone had seen her. They hadn’t. I went home, convinced she’d left me until Officer Fierce came knocking at my door in the middle of the night to inform me that she, along with another regular and one of the other performers had been murdered that night. The work of a twisted serial killer, stalking our club. They caught him though. Jiggly Caliente was his name. I attended his trial. He claimed innocence, showing no comprehension of the crime he was accused of. He sobbed piteously through the whole thing, especially after Miss O'Hara’s testimony. He claimed she betrayed him after everything he’d done for her. They sentenced him to life. The whole thing was a sad affair but at the time it scared me half to death. It drove me to open up more to Fame, and I grew to love her as she loved me. But as you already know, that wasn’t fated to last either. Fate hasn’t exactly been kind to me.” 

“I don’t believe in lying back and saying how bad your luck is,” interjected Katya but Violet cut her off. She had had enough. 

“You don’t believe in a lot of things, detective. You’re so caught up in your own little world. You despise me. You don’t believe me. You demonize me. And yet you desire me. You can’t stay away from me. You’re obsessed with me. I’m everything you might’ve once wanted but you don’t allow yourself anymore. You don’t accept or use your beauty. You think I’m a lazy whore, getting men to do things for me because they are enchanted with me. Has it ever occurred to you that I do what I do because I don’t have the options and opportunities you do? My talents do not provide me with a stable and reputable life. I am not taken seriously by you or by anyone. All anyone ever thinks of me is how nice I’d be in bed. Even you, Katya. You’re not above it all. You and everyone else rarely think any further than that so forgive me if I value genuine affection and I use this system, which is already stacked against me, to get what I need by playing off of the expectations of this patriarchal society. You’ve already made it, detective. You don’t have to rely on men to provide for you. You get respect for what you do. People look up to you. You don’t remember what it’s like to struggle. You don’t know what it’s like to lose. You don’t know how it feels to be used. You might have once. You’re beautiful, Katya. You might have forgotten that but you are. No doubt back home you would have caught the eye of some fat old rich man or at least you probably could have. We all heard how bad things were in Russia during the war. Maybe your family tried to sell you, or you feared that possibility or something else. There was a lot to fear during the war. You came here. You struggled. And you won. Now you’ve forgotten and you’re no better than those who oppress women like us. You condemn me and demonize me because I use my beauty and my sex. You think yourself above that. You’re not. You don’t have to use your beauty to survive. But really, we aren’t so different, Miss Zamolodchikova. Society condemns us both for being free women. They’ve just stopped pointing that out to you.” 

She concluded her rant and the others fell into a stunned silence. Katya was gobsmacked. The burlesque performer had hit a little too close to home. Katya had never though of it that way. It startled Katya, how right Violet was. And in their entire acquaintance, Miss Chachki had never been this verbose. She still didn’t forgive her but perhaps they understood each other a little better now. 

“You are mostly right, Miss Chachki. But I still do not forgive you for endangering me and mine and for lying to us all. I don’t have any reason to trust you. But I’m still going to see your case through since I’m invested now. I’m going to see that those responsible get what they deserve and God help you if you’ve been playing us false this whole time because there will be nowhere on this earth you can hide from my wrath,” she vowed. 

Violet laughed. “I’ve met God, Katya, and he doesn’t help people. He only does what he wants.” She scoffed. “But fine. Come to my show tonight. Max will be more than fine for a night in Trixie’s capable hands. Afterwards, you can take me somewhere away from prying ears and eyes, and you can have me all to yourself. I’ll answer your questions if that’s what you want to do with me.” The innuendo hung heavy in the air. They had pulled in in front of Max’s apartment but none of them dared look away from the intense stare Violet and Katya shared. Had the brazen dame actually propositioned her in front of both their lovers? Or was she mocking Katya? More likely it was the latter. 

“I’ll be there. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me,” the Russian responded. 

“Don’t be late,” she purred, getting out of the car and helping Max out after her. 

The couple watched the young burlesque performer helped the injured detective into the building. 

“Get in the front. I’m not your damn driver,” grumbled Trixie and Katya quickly did as she was told. As soon as the Russian had shut the door, the secretary laid into her. “I get it, Katya. I do. You’re pissed at Violet. But attacking her at every turn is just going to make her defensive.”

“Angel-” Katya tried to cut in.

“Don’t you ‘angel’ me. Listen to me for one damn second Katya. Violet showed up at our office covered in blood and shellshocked. She either witnessed Fame’s murder or knows something about it. And she obviously knows more besides. I know I’m asking a lot, but could you two not antagonize each other long enough to actually ask her some questions after her show?”

“You think she’ll actually answer?” inquired Katya dubiously. 

“She offered. And I trust you’ll doubt her answers anyway. Whatever innuendos and double entendres aside, she’s invested in this case too. Having her stay with Max will allow us to keep an eye on her. Granted, she’ll be able to keep an eye on us too. But Violet may not be as bad as she seems, Katya. She loved Fame - I’m certain of that. I think she genuinely cares in some way for Max too. Life hasn’t been kind to her it’s true, but she’s fought through it all. She possesses an inner strength that reminds me you very much of you, actually. Katya, please. For all our sakes, try to understand her.”

“She reminds you of me?” Katya seemed horrified at the comparison. 

“Yes and that’s not a bad thing. Now, will you please give her a chance at least?” begged the secretary. 

“I will try but I don’t make any promises to like her,” grumbled Katya. 

“You don’t have to like her,” said Trixie. She heaved a sigh. “I’m not blind or stupid Katya. I see what’s going on with you and her. I may not like it but I understand. If you have to get it out of your system to be able to work with her, so be it. As long as I’m the one you come back to at the end of the day.”

Katya stared at her lover, mouth agape. “It’s not like that!” Trixie was actually giving her permission to sleep with Violet. Katya couldn’t believe it. 

“Deny it all you want, Kat. I know you. Keep that in mind.” They pulled into the garage Violet normally parked her car in, abruptly ending their discussion. The attendant recognized Trixie and nodded to them as they departed. 

“This is a good look for you, Trix. It’s different. I like it,” Katya said gently. 

Her lover laughed. “Violet said you’d say that,” she replied cryptically.

“You and our dangerous dame are good pals then now then?” needled Katya. 

“Don’t be like that, Kat. It doesn’t suit you. When they took you two away, I had to keep her quiet. She looked so scared, nothing at all like her own confident self. When I later asked her if she saw the murder, she shook her head immediately. She did tell me she saw Fame though and that all she said to her was ‘sorry’ and she broke down then- our fierce broad did. She talked of regrets that she and Fame didn’t have time to properly make up and if only she’d listed to the chanteuse, none of this would have happened. She cried for a good long time and it seemed to do her some good. Once she calmed down enough to comprehend that you two had been taken away, she came up with a plan to get you two out. Worked pretty well too.” Trixie stole a glance at Katya’s bruised cheek. “Even still, two hours in the clink was too much. I can’t believe they did that to you!”

“They could have done a lot worse. Imagine if we were in Russia,” Katya trailed off bitterly. “We need to figure out what Miss Chachki wants. Until we do, she has the upper hand on us, Trix. And I don’t like that.”

“I agree. But there’s little we can do right now - we’re here. Come on.”

Trixie took charge of packing things for Violet, thinking of everything she’d need and having the foresight to take with them the incriminating framed picture of a naked Violet wearing Sharon’s missing crown. The sultry burlesque performer had insisted on her entire jewelry box coming with them too, as well as a fair few hat boxes and a trunk of costumes. She must do this a lot because she had told the pair of where they might locate a luggage cart in her apartment that would fold up and fit in her spacious car. 

Katya marveled at Trixie’s efficiency, paying a good amount of attention to her swaying hips rather than her instructions but even still it didn’t take them long to get everything squared away and drive back to Max’s place. 

They arrived to find Violet in the kitchen, a delicious-smelling dinner well underway. Max was dozing on the couch, carefully tucked in and bundled up. 

The pair stared at her. Her lips quirked into a half smile. “What? You didn’t expect me to be such a domestic dame? Come, sit down. I’ll wake Max. Dinner’s ready.”

Violet was actually a pretty good cook. The four sat down to a rather peaceful dinner. The sultry seductress was cutting Max’s food for him and feeding it to him, almost as a dutiful wife would do for her injured husband. Trixie and Katya couldn’t help but exchange a look. They would tease Max about it later. 

Katya couldn’t help but stare at Violet being so domestic. Surely it had to be an act. Poor Max would be heartbroken by the end of this case, but if they made it out alive, he would get over it. Of that Katya was certain. 

It was almost sickening to watch how sweet Violet was to Max. The underlying sadness was still apparent but completely understandable given that she’d seen the body of someone she’d cared about laid out in a coroner’s office that morning. They both seemed to want to comfort each other, but skirted about the issue, coyly making overtures and drawing soft blushes and bashful looks from the other. Max’s pain was physical and Violet’s emotional. They made a fine mess of a pair, mused Katya. 

Her eyes wandered over to her own lover and couldn’t help but look away from the naked concern in her eyes. She’d laid into Violet pretty good earlier and though she was behaving now, she could tell Trixie wasn’t finished with her, merely waiting until they were alone again.  
Violet and Trixie cleared the table when they were all finished and Katya helped Max to bed. He looked exhausted. 

“Are you alright, Katya?” the young detective asked as they reached his room. Max’s big blue eyes were full of concern. 

“Me? I’m am not the one needing to go to bed this early! You’re getting old to match your grey hair!” she teased, trying to deflect the conversation from herself. 

Max chuckled. “But I’m not the one who was interrogated by the police. You’ve also been a bit… testy lately? Snapping at Violet and even Trixie. If I weren’t an invalid right now you’d probably snap at me too. Are you alright?”

Katya hesitated. “Worried is all. We might be in over our heads, partner. Damn us both for being taken in by that damn sexy dame with her damn pleading doe eyes and damn tiny waist. Was she worth it at least?” she asked. 

They shared a lascivious look. “I’d say so,” he replied. 

“You trust her then?” asked Katya, truly curious to hear his answer. 

“Yes. I know there’s more she isn’t telling us but I can’t really blame her. She’s had no one but herself to rely on for so long. I’m afraid losing Fame will only make her close herself off more. But it also might be the push that leads her to open up to us.”

“And her missing Pearl? What happens then?” Katya asked. 

“I don’t know. I’m not foolish enough to think that sleeping with her once gives me any sort of claim on her. She deserves to be free and happy, Katya. She’s never really had that before. I can’t even imagine the life she’s led…” Max trailed off thoughtfully. 

They shared a glance before losing themselves in thought for a while before Violet’s soft knock at the door startled them out of their contemplation. She smiled sadly at them. “Need anything, detectives?” the burlesque performer asked kindly. 

“Not at the moment,” Max said. His eyes were glued to her and Katya absently wondered how much she read into that. Her partner had clearly fallen for the dame and she seemed at the least intrigued by him. The fact that she had hired them to find her missing lover cast a dark cloud over their budding romance. 

“What time must you go to your club then, Miss Chachki?” asked the Russian gruffly. 

“I’ll be leaving in about an hour. I’ve got more than enough time to get ready,” she replied. “I warn you now though, I’ll be hogging your mirror most of the time I’m here, Mr. Malanaphy,” she practically purred at him. 

“You’re welcome to my mirror anytime, Miss Chachki,” he replied generously. 

“Thank you,” she gave him an enchanting half-smile. “I’ll go make use of it now.” She withdrew from the room, swaying her hips enticingly as she did so, fully aware of how their eyes tracked her departure. The detectives watched her go with unreadable expressions on their faces. 

Assured that Max was fine, Katya went to join Trixie in the sitting room. Katya merely rested her head on Trixie’s ample bosom as the secretary stroked her hair, sensing that Katya was in no mood to talk, Trixie did not press the issues she looked so eager to discuss earlier. They remained that way until the raven-haired beauty’s departure. 

Violet looked simply stunning when she left for the club. She said her goodbyes and reminded Katya not to be late because she was on first tonight and the Russian wouldn’t want to miss her performance before she hurried out the door.

The couple went to check on Max. Trixie wiped something off of a now fast asleep Max’s chin. She showed her thumb to Katya. “Looks like Miss Violet’s shade. Naughty boy. I’d say it’s safe to assume they kissed and made up,” she said wryly. 

“I’d say so too. He’s in deep, Trix. He trusts her,” informed the Russian as they returned to the sitting room. 

“Well, then between the three of us that makes one believer, one doubter and one uncertain. Together we’ll solve Miss Chachki’s case. We’ll find Pearl and we’ll put those responsible for all this behind bars,” Trixie said confidently. 

Katya could not share her certainty. “At the very least, I hope we all make it out of this alive. You were right, Trix. I can’t just take the case of every beautiful dame who walks into the office with a sob story,” admitted Katya. 

Trixie seemed to understand what her lover couldn’t put voice to. She was terrified, not necessarily for herself but for losing Max and Trixie to this case. Kind Miss Fame had been helpful to them and she was dead and gone. There was no guarantee the rest of them wouldn’t end up the same way. Katya couldn’t bear the thought of it. 

Trixie’s lips on hers startled her out of her grief but she melted into the kiss, allowing Trixie to give her much needed physical comfort. When they broke for air, Katya pushed Trixie to lie down and turned around to climb onto the couch the opposite way Trixie was laying. She barely paused before lifting Trixie’s skirt and pulling down her hose and panties. 

“Katya! We can’t!” hissed Trixie. She, however, made no attempt to push Katya away. “We are on Max’s couch! In his apartment! And he’s asleep in the next room!”

“Best to be quick, quiet and clean then,” said Katya unrepentantly. She parted the hair and spread Trixie’s folds, lapping at the rapidly appearing slick and sucking at the bud, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the other girl. A quick spank to her ass interrupted her as she gave a small cry at the unexpected move. 

“Shh!” hissed Trixie as she pulled down Katya’s damp panties. She used her thumbs to part Katya’s own hair and folds and go to work on her.  
It became a race then, the couple employing all the tricks they knew the other enjoyed. Katya added fingers as she kept the pressure on with her tongue sucking occasionally and drawing whimpers from Trixie as the girl penetrated the Russian with her tongue, making sure not to neglect her perineum as she simultaneously rubbed her lover’s clit with her fingers. Their panting and moaning added another dimension to their ministrations, aiding them in their haste.  
Katya knew she won when Trixie began to shake and her actions to bringing Katya to the edge began to diminish. Katya increased hers and soon held Trixie in place as she tried to squirm away from the intensity of it all. Trixie bit her lip, trying to muffle her sounds as Katya brought her to an intense orgasm as her whole body shuddered and tensed before finally finding release. Trixie fell limply back to the couch. Katya lapped up her come, avoiding her most sensitive spots as she caught her breath. 

“Come here, baby,” beckoned Trixie once she came down enough from her high. Katya found herself being manhandled to sit on Trixie’s face as her lover returned the favor. She ground against her shamelessly, using Trixie’s tongue to bring herself back to the edge. A firm grip on her hips stilled her and Trixie began to dominate and control their contact, swirling her tongue before concentrating her motions on Katya’s apex. The Russian swore as she began to shake apart, her arms no longer supporting her and they gave out, forcing her to rely on Trixie’s grip to keep her in position as the secretary brought her to completion. She clenched, bucked and tensed, until she found her release from the motions of Trixie talented tongue and fingers. She finally collapsed all the way down on top of her lover, both of them breathless, spent and sated. 

Trixie giggled. “Max is going to kill us. I’ll clean this up.” She brought her hand to smack Katya sharply on the ass, drawing a small yelp and dirty look from her lover. “Now go! Violet warned you not to be late,” called Trixie as she pushed her lover off. After cleaning up, Katya was out the door after one final filthy kiss.

When Katya finally arrived at the Kit Kat Club, she was certain she’d missed Violet’s number. Katya would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed. She’d never actually seen a burlesque performance and Violet was a very sexy girl. Looking around, there weren’t a lot of people around and most were subdued, quietly sipping stiff drinks and smoking cigarettes, trying not to draw any attention to themselves. Katya sat at a table and lit up while she waited for the next performance. 

“This is how it ends, never meant to hurt you. I’m a pretty mess and I don’t deserve you,” a voice crooned. Adore Delano appeared onstage and Katya couldn’t look away. She’d filled out since the last time Katya had seen her, back when she was a scrawny teen with a missing father. Where was Bonnie, Adore’s mother, if her only child was here performing in a nightclub, wondered Katya. The Russian watched the young singer work the tough crowd, her enticing curves swaying to the music as she sang passionately. Her eyes went wide when they landed on the detective. 

She finished her song and launched herself off the stage straight into Katya’s lap, surprising the Russian and causing her to drop her cigarette. “Hi,” whispered the singer. Her plush lips were enticingly close to Katya’s own and the Russian decided she liked the feel of the curvy singer on her lap. “Come with me,” purred Adore, big pleading eyes turning to Katya. She was a weak woman when it came to pretty younger girls with big beautiful eyes and she knew it. She stole a kiss from those enticing red lips and the singer pressed up against her. They drew apart and Adore led her backstage without protest. 

Once they reached the empty dressing room, Adore melted into Katya’s arms and the detective realized she was crying. She drew the younger girl tighter to her and let her have her cry. The detective rubbed soothing circles on the singer’s back and whispered platitudes in Russian in her ear. 

Once she eventually stopped, Katya broke her silence. “What happened Adore? Is Bonnie ok?”

Adore pulled away in confusion. “Yeah, Mom’s fine. Why?”

“I just thought…” Katya trailed off lamely.  
Confusion dominated the singer’s face. Finally comprehension dawned after a long moment. “Oh no! Not Mom! Violet!”

“Violet? What happened, Adore? Where is she?” asked Katya, suddenly realizing that she hadn’t see Violet anywhere in the club or backstage. 

“She was so scared, Katya. Violet’s so brave so I didn’t know she could be scared. She was shaking so badly I had to help her with her makeup. Maybe she knew what was going to happen tonight,” Adore looked helplessly at Katya. 

"What exactly happened?” asked Katya urgently, a very real fear beginning to overcome her. 

“She went onstage to do her number. She looked stunning as always. The crowd was really hot for her tonight. And all the sudden they all got quiet. I was watching from the wings as the crowd parted. Sharon Needles had arrived. Everyone knows who he is but he hasn’t been here since Fame left.”

“Not likely an accident that day Fame’s murder is all over the papers he comes here then,” suggested Katya. “Go on.”

“He stood right in the center of the room, face impassive, still smoking his cigarette. He didn’t look at anyone but Violet. And she didn’t look at anyone but him either. She just kept doing her routine, taking off almost all of her clothes. Just her panties and a pair of heels and pasties left on her when she finished and Sharon beckoned her offstage. He gave her a hand to step down and he wrapped her in his coat and he led her out. No time to pack or anything.” She pointed to Violet’s vanity. While tidy, makeup had been left out and a change of clothes was draped over her chair. 

“And no one stopped them?” asked Katya. 

Adore laughed loudly. “No one dares stop a man who thinks himself a god. He does want he wants and no one can stop him. You just don’t deny Sharon Needles. It just doesn’t happen. The girl he used to see before Fame hasn’t been seen or heard from since after she refused him,” Adore told her, her voice shaking. 

“Where would he have taken her?” interrogated Katya.

"Depends on what he wanted from her. She knew what he was after, I think. She was terrified, Katya. She knew she was in danger. She told me to tell you something if I saw you: 'detoxicant’. I don’t know what that means,” confessed the singer. 

“Neither do I,” admitted the detective. “I need to go after them. Where might they have gone?”

Adore’s big eyes opened wide in surprise. When she spoke, her voice was shrill with hysteria. “I don’t think you understand. Katya, Violet was taken away by Sharon Needles! The mob boss! The god of this city! She’s more than likely already dead.”


	10. Chapter 5: Be Generous, Mr. Needles

Katya walked slowly back to Max’s, not caring about the lateness of the hour. Her trusty .45 would ensure no one bothered her. She took the long way, trying to sort out her thoughts on what had transpired. 

Violet was gone, more than likely for good, and the Russian detective didn’t have any leads as to where Sharon might have taken her. Fame’s death had been in vain as the mobster now had the girl and all that the chanteuse had feared was coming true. Katya tried not to dwell on what Sharon and his cronies might be doing to that beautiful dame right now, if she were even still alive. 

Max would never forgive her for being late and missing Violet’s abduction. Katya sighed. The Russian stopped to light up a cigarette. Her hands shook but she managed it. Katya took a deep drag. Guilt gnawed at her. She felt somewhat responsible. She could have saved that stunning creature. Regret gripped her. If only she hadn’t stayed so long with Trixie. Violet might still be alive now…

Katya lit up another cigarette as the rain started to fall. A man was coming towards her, probably thinking she was for hire. A look at her revolver and he wisely kept walking. The detective watched him go. The rain soaked into her skin but she couldn’t feel it. All she thought of was pouty, plush, lying lips, a tiny, slender, appealing waist and lush, shiny, soft locks of sable hair. A mystery in the guise of a beautiful woman with many lovers and even more secrets. 

The stunning enchantress had drawn her, her partner and her lover into the dangerous underworld that had eventually claimed her. Katya could not help but wonder what happened now.

Violet was gone. No real leads as to where she was taken but she was probably dead anyway. Her mystery unsolved. Her missing Pearl nowhere be found. Her former lover Miss Fame had been murdered and the only clue Katya had was a single cryptic word. “Detoxicant”. What on earth had that problematic dame meant by that? Fame had been shot, not poisoned. Toxins didn’t figure into this, did they?

Katya heaved a heavy sigh. The sky brightened marginally. Had it not been raining, the sun would have been rising. Nothing to do but return to Trixie and Max and tell them of how she had failed Violet. She was not looking forward to their reaction to being unable to save their captivating client from falling into the clutches of a man who considered himself the God of this city. She began to walk back, taking her time returning. 

Once there, Katya let herself in and climbed the stairs slowly. She fished the keys out of her pocket and opened the door to the sight of her lover helping her partner settle into the large armchair in the sitting room. 

“Katya! You look like a drowned rat. Don’t you dare track that dirt in here!” Trixie ran to help her out of her wet things and hustled her into a chair by the radiator, not even bothering to shut the door behind them in her haste. 

“How did things go with Miss Violet?” asked Max, unable to contain his curiosity. 

“She’s gone,” croaked Katya. 

"Gone?” parroted Trixie, her voice a little higher than usual. She paused her movements. “What do you mean ‘gone’? She blew town?”

Katya shook her head. “Sharon Needles took her away before I got there. Right off the stage once she’d finished her number. She was wearing just heels and panties and pasties. Young Miss Adore Delano told me. She says Violet is more than likely dead. Violet was scared, scared enough to pass along a message through Miss Delano. “Detoxicant.” I don’t know what it means. But she’s gone. Dead or worse. You can’t steal from a man like that and get away with it.“ Katya inhaled deeply. 

Max and Trixie stared at her in shock. 

"You’re saying that Sharon freaking Needles took away our client?!” screeched Trixie. “The mob boss? The god of the city? And he’s stolen Violet away?! The girl who was photographed naked in his missing crown!?!” Trixie was horrified. 

“But we can’t just let her die!” pleaded Max, clearly alarmed. 

“I do not think you understood me, partner. Violet’s already dead!” shouted Katya. 

"Already dead? Were you planning to kill me, Miss Katya? I suppose I can’t be too surprised. Murder is a crime of passion after all.” Trixie gasped and the detectives turned to face the owner of that silky, sinful voice. 

Violet was fully dressed now and looking as stunning as usual, despite her being nearly naked at the time she was taken away by a man who believed himself a god - a god who had sworn vengeance upon the foolish mortal who dared steal his crown. And Miss Chachki had been the last documented foolish mortal to have it since its disappearance. Miss Fame had also died to protect the girl from this god’s notice. It didn’t add up. 

“Where have you been?! You should be dead!” Katya’s tone made it sound as if since Sharon didn’t kill her, the Russian might. 

Violet stared at her unrepentantly after shutting the door behind her. “I was with Sharon,” she said mockingly, “You were late so someone else took me home. You missed your opportunity, Detective. Such a pity.” She stared Katya down, a condescending sneer twisting her lips. 

“We were convinced Sharon killed you!” exclaimed Max. The Russian detective took note of Violet’s high neckline and something that was either a shadow or a bruise. Katya rather suspected the latter. Max continued, “You had the crown and he was going to kill the thief!”

Violet laughed darkly. “Clearly you know nothing of the man who declares himself a god. He wouldn’t take me away like that if that were the case. He doesn’t know about the photograph of me in his crown. Even if he did, I wasn’t the one who stole it and I certainly don’t have it now. He just wanted to mourn Fame.” She trailed off sadly, remembering her lost love. “I think in this whole city Sharon and I were the only ones she truly cared about.”

“Fame cared about Sharon?” asked Trixie suspiciously.

“Oh yes. She knew being associated with him was a dangerous game but so long as he stayed in power, she figured she would be fine,” explained the burlesque performer. "Their relationship was complicated but I am certain she truly did care about him.“

"And that turned out well for her,” said Katya sarcastically. 

Violet gave her a hard look. “Not many would openly defy a god and snuff out his favorite songbird. Whoever killed her did so against Sharon’s wishes and there will be hell to pay. Mark my words. From now on this is war, detectives, and it will be a bloody one.”

“Hold on, what exactly happened when Sharon took you away? You were nearly naked!” exclaimed Max. 

“Sharon is a gentleman - He wrapped me in his long overcoat. Mr. Michaels had his car ready outside. I had suspected for a while he was in the mob but he must be one of Sharon’s most trusted to know so much about him. It isn’t the first time I’ve seen Mr. Michaels drive Sharon places.”

“But where did they take you?” asked Max worriedly. 

“Sharon’s home. I think we both needed to grieve for Fame with the only other person who truly knew her. I cried in his arms and told him how I missed her. Sharon was genuinely glad to know we made up before the end.” Violet’s voice thickened with unshed tears. “She deserved better than this. If only I had listened to her…” She turned away from them then. Max hesitated but took the mournful dame into his arms. Katya looked on disapprovingly. 

Their client softened into his embrace, sniffling as she held back tears. When she had finished her cry, she looked to Katya. “You must think me terribly weak, Detective Zamolodchikova - to have to cry into two men’s arms in less than 24 hours.” She laughed bitterly. “I told you you didn’t know what it was like to lose. Sharon doesn’t either.” 

She resumed her story. “Fame’s loss confuses him. He is unaccustomed to having things taken from him. He held me as I cried, stroking my hair, but he did not understand my grief.” Violet looked between the three of them. “He doesn’t mourn as I do or you might. I do not know if this God of ours is capable of tears.”

“Sharon is no god, Miss Chachki. Don’t tell me you believe his lies,” scoffed Katya. 

Violet turned to Trixie, the only other person in the room who had met the mob boss. “What do you believe about all of this, Miss Mattel?”

Trixie looked uncomfortably to her lover before replying. “Sharon is certainly a magnetic figure, with eyes so pale they’re almost inhuman. When you get everything you want for so long, I suppose it’s possible to believe yourself better than others, perhaps even a god.”

Violet turned smugly back to Katya but Max interjected before the two could snipe at each other. “But what did Sharon want with you?”

“I fear he wants me to replace Fame for him,” she said simply. “I do not want that- to be put in a cage for others to admire and to only be allowed what he will give me. That isn’t the kind of life I want. Fame accepted it but I can’t. I fear what will happen when I deny him.”

“You make it sound so simple. When you deny him,” sneered Katya. “Don’t tell me you didn’t already do what Sharon wanted. He took you away after your sexy little number. What happened to your neck, Miss Chachki? Why don’t you show us?” Max and Trixie turned to her in shock but Violet merely smirked. 

She and Violet locked gazes, both of them unwilling to capitulate. “Of course you want to know. Always so curious about what you can’t have yourself. Very well, Detective.” She undid the buttons at her throat, baring the normally flawless skin to their view. Her delicate neck was a mess of love bites and suspicious bruises that Katya rather suspected would match up with the mob boss’s fingertips. Katya’s jaw dropped open and Max and Trixie gasped in unison at the reveal but Miss Chachki wasn’t done. She paid them no mind as she continued to undress before them, her eyes never leaving Katya’s as she removed her dress, revealing the marks that covered her beautiful body. Red, raw lines covered her wrists and ankles. Bruises had been sucked on the top on her breasts and as she turned to pull down her slip, she revealed a mess of scratches on her back and thighs. She pulled down her panties to display her perfect posterior, hand shaped marks still evident on the soft flesh. The trio started at her battered body, unable to form words. Defiantly, she turned back to face Katya. She wore only her brassiere, panties and high heels and despite her undressed state she did not appear vulnerable. She finally spoke. 

“As I’ve told you, Sharon does not grieve as most people would but he is, of course, not most people. I don’t know for certain how physical his relationship was with Fame but I know he was one of her regulars at the Cosmo and the games they played were unusual. They would confess things to each other and Fame would reaffirm to him that he was indeed the god he claimed to be. He often dressed her as he pleased as well. That much I know.

"Sharon told me last night that he wished to mourn Fame by celebrating life. Of course that meant he wished to take me to bed. And I confess I was curious about him. Tales of his almost supernatural stamina are widely circulated. I have no shame in enjoying the pleasures of the flesh and Mr. Needles shares this view of mine.” Her eyes locked again with Katya’s and never left them. 

“His tastes, while uncommon, are not unheard of. I stripped fully naked for him and sat in his lap and kissed him deeply and he groped my breasts and slapped my ass hard, just like I like it. Nothing like a good spanking to get a girl in the mood. He took silken rope and asked to tie me to his bed and have his way with me. And I let him. He certainly has a way with the more deviant arts of the bedroom.” She smiled wickedly at the Russian detective. 

“He’s one hell of a lover. He’s big and bold. I don’t like a timid lover and he knows what he’s doing. All night long, pounding away at me tirelessly, pushing me to my limits. Whether I was begging for more or less I cannot honestly tell you. He was an utter beast, savage and violent, and I was completely at his mercy and I loved every second of it. And don’t you dare try to shame me for it.” 

Katya glared right back at her. The girl was quite literally sleeping with the enemy and she had the gall to shamelessly tell them that she enjoyed it immensely. The trio collectively frowned. 

Trixie spoke before Katya or Max could. “But are you alright, Miss Chachki? I know one does not refuse a god.”

“I’m more than fine. You all seem to forget that I am a burlesque performer. I’m not exactly discomforted by being naked or nearly naked. Yes, Sharon took me to bed. And yes, he is not a gentle lover. But he gave me a word to call it off if I wished and took care of me afterwards. Few lovers ever devote such concern to me. Besides, I am not unaccustomed to this kind of sex. Lest we forget, Fame was a dominatrix. You should have seen me after being with her. There’s a reason she was so popular at the Hotel Cosmo.” She smiled devilishly at their dropped jaws. “Now if that will be all detectives, I’ll see you in a few hours. Oh and by the way, someone broke into my flat while I was out. You may want to look into that.” She casually redressed and walked out, leaving the trio throughly stunned in her wake. 

“She’s got moxie- you have to give her that at least,” said Trixie, clearly impressed. Max nodded and Katya bitterly said nothing. Trixie turned to her lover. “You keep attacking her and she’ll keep teasing you. You’ve got to stop this before the tension between you two drives us all crazy.”

“I can’t help it. She infuriates me like no other. I must admit however that I am glad she isn’t dead. Life would be far more boring without that lovely troublesome dame,” confessed Katya. 

Max nodded. “I agree but I don’t like her sleeping with Sharon. Not one bit. I know it’s her choice but he’s a dangerous man. Especially to her. Fame said once that Violet was dangerous because she was too in love with thrill to be anything but. Her recklessness will endanger us all.”

Trixie paced restlessly for a moment before coming to a stop before the detectives. “You’re right, Max. There is something we must consider: Miss Chachki is clever. Very clever. Furthermore, she is beautiful, especially without her clothes on. This self-styled God has a renowned appetite for beautiful women. Miss Chachki is certainly clever enough to use that to her own advantage and save her own skin. Suppose she tells this vengeful god of hers that one of us has his crown. What stops the mob from coming for us?” The other two looked at her in wide-eyed horror. 

“We need to figure out what she really wants. We’re all in danger until we do. Miss Chachki has the upper hand and there’s nothing that ensures her loyalty to us. We can’t trust her,” said Katya grimly. 

“So now what? We can’t trust Violet but she’s dropped us two clues. She claims her apartment has been broken into and her supposed last message, "detoxicant”. Do we investigate?“ Max asked, clearly unhappy with the turn of events. Violet was alive but they trusted her less than ever and he had believed her from the start. It was clearly bothering him. 

"Detoxicant is easy. It’s Detox Icunt actually. I bet that’s who killed Fame and Violet must have witnessed the murder,” stated the secretary. The detectives looked askance at her, baffled. She looked between them. “How have you lived here this long and never heard of the most feared hitman in the city? Honestly! He’s Sharon’s right hand man. He’s married to Pearl, or at least he’s married to Pearl’s true identity, Matt James Lent.”

“Why would Sharon’s top hitman kill Fame? The mob boss cared for her by all accounts. That doesn’t make any sense,” pointed out Katya. 

"Violet did say that whoever killed her did so against Sharon’s wishes and a bloody war was coming,” noted Max. 

“If Detox and Sharon get in a turf war for this city, the streets will run red. God help us all.” Trixie’s voice was barely above a whisper, the horror she was imagining causing her to speak softly. 

“This God doesn’t help people. But we do. We need to get to the bottom of this and fast,” declared Katya. “We’ll need to investigate Miss Violet’s apartment. Max, will you be alright on your own for a couple hours? I want Trixie to come with me to investigate the crime scene.”

“Probably best not to go alone if it’s been broken into,” agreed Trixie. 

Max smirked. “Miss Chachki’s apartment is far nicer than mine. She will likely be more than a bit cross if you leave any stains on her pink velvet couch.” The couple blushed furiously as Max laughed. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call if I truly need anything. You two be careful.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The couple stopped over at the Russian’s place to change and shower before investigating the break in. Katya tried to coax Trixie to shower with her but to no avail. The secretary swatted her lover’s hands away.

“I’m not here for you to take out your sexual tensions with Violet on. I only want you if it’s me you want. Not her. I already told you that if you needed to get it out of your system to be able to work with her, you have my permission. But don’t you dare imagine her when you’re with me.”

Chastised, Katya showered alone, not daring to give voice to who she imagined sharing her shower with. Trixie could tell though and they journeyed to Miss Chachki’s apartment in silence.

They arrived to find the door hadn’t been forced and everything seemed intact so they suspected they had been played false until they entered Violet’s bedroom. Her closet had been rifled through, dresses and hats strewn about the floor and her vanity had been tipped over in a rage, expensive perfume bottles broken on the floor. It was clearly not an ordinary thief. They were obviously looking for something in particular and it wasn’t there. 

“Call Max. Have him look through Violet’s things we brought over,” Katya ordered Trixie. 

The secretary shot the detective an annoyed look but she picked up Violet’s rotary phone regardless. She must have come to the same conclusion. The intruder was likely looking for something that they’d brought over to her. Katya continued to investigate as Trixie spoke to Max. 

“-she insisted on that jewelry box in particular. I’d search that first,” Trixie explained into the phone.

Katya wouldn’t put it past the slippery broad to ransack her own apartment and lay them a false trail. The Russian took the opportunity to snoop around. 

The forensics kit they’d sent over with Max was still there, along with the promised note that Pearl had sent her the night before he’d disappeared. It didn’t appear to have been touched by the intruder as it wasn’t in the burlesque performer’s bedroom. Wordlessly, she handed the note to her lover as she joined her. Trixie read it and looked up at Katya. 

"Why would he leave her? Was she close to finding out his lies? Did he fear her revealing him? And where would he go?” wondered Trixie aloud. 

“All good questions. But Miss Chachki doesn’t seem so broken up about his abandonment of her to move on to Max and now Sharon so quickly,” Katya said bitterly. 

“You know what she is, Katya. She can’t afford to be sentimental. Falling in love is a liability for women like her and Fame. And God help anyone who falls in love with them too. But look what’s happened to them both,” pointed out Trixie, “-gaining the notice of a man who doesn’t understand not getting his way. This won’t end well. I fear for Max too in this.”

“Me too,” admitted Katya but the Russian’s mind was already on other things. The detective looked long and hard at her lover, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Maybe Violet was right and the the Russian detective and the burlesque performer were not so different after all. To love either of them was to court death. And Katya was too selfish to truly push Trixie away. Maybe Violet was the kinder of the two, to not allow Max much hope of loving her as she did to Trixie. 

"Don’t look at me like that, Kat. You know I’m right about all of this, and not just about Max.” She took a deep breath. “Alright let’s think logically about this whole thing. Pearl, also known as Matt James Lent, husband of Detox Icunt, Sharon Needles’ top hit man, is missing. His relationship with Violet was under the pretext that he was a woman named Pearl and she found excuses not to be naked with our stunning client. He stole her from Fame and likely had a hand in the singer’s downfall. He also photographed our beautiful dame in Sharon’s missing crown. Violet has seemingly accused Detox as Fame’s killer but we’re yet to hear a full account of that event now that she’s recovered from the shock. And we don’t know how truthful Miss Chachki has been or will be with us. And also Violet may not be in Sharon’s clutches but she’s certainly in his sights. Who knows where she is now? We also have Max’s assailant to ponder. Is he a mob man? Or someone else? And who broke into this apartment and what were they looking for? And ultimately, what does Miss Chachki want?” Trixie pondered and questioned. 

“We have too many unanswered questions. It is long overdue that we interrogate Miss Violet,” declared Katya. 

"Max and I will do that,” stated Trixie. Her lover looked at her in outrage. “Not that you couldn’t do it but she baits you and you rise to it. She’s far more willing to open up to him than to us two. You said it yourself, Kat. We need to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.”

Katya looked at her lover in amazement. “Have I ever told you you look hot when you’re on a roll, angel? Keep talking dirty to me, doll.”

Trixie shoved her lightly, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks pink. “Oh don’t say things like that unless you actually plan on marrying me one day. And don’t change the subject. We need to focus on this case.”

Katya grinned unrepentantly. “How would Max cope if we got married?”

The secretary rolled her eyes. “The same way he has been for years. I’m going into the office. I need to pull my files on the killer known as Detox.”

“You have a file on Detox?” asked Katya. 

"I figured it would be useful one day. I was right. Someone needs to keep tabs on the underworld. Might as well be me. You should go back to Max and check on him. Maybe Miss Chachki will return there. I’ll head there after I’m finished at the office,” Trixie said firmly. She accepted a goodbye kiss from Katya and the two went their separate ways. 

When Katya reached Max’s apartment, she was shocked to be admitted by Miss Chachki. “Hello Katya,” she said silkily. Katya peered warily at her. 

“Back so soon Miss Chachki?” she asked cattily. Violet merely laughed. 

“It’s not exactly conducive to the seductive illusion that I like to portray to be covered in another man’s marks. Besides, half the city knows Sharon took me off the stage last night. Everyone’s heard the legends about him - No one’s looking for me to be up and about.” She smirked and Katya couldn’t help but feel affronted by Violet’s nonchalance about the whole situation. 

The kettle blowing drew Violet away to the kitchen as she made them a large pot of tea. As she poured the tea, the Russian settled in, feeling as if she were somehow intruding on their domesticity. Violet had learned Max’s apartment surprisingly quickly and made good time in arranging them a tray of biscuits too. Katya took a shortbread as she looked back and forth between the two, wondering what they’d discussed in her absence. Violet broke the short silence. 

“I take it you’ve just returned from my apartment. Did your investigation turn up anything of merit, Detective?” asked Violet. She was not smirking now and seemed genuinely interested in the answer. 

“The intruder had something specific in mind. Went straight to your bedroom without disturbing the rest of your apartment. No signs of forced entry. You strike me as the kind of girl who’s careful about who you let have unrestricted access to you. Miss Fame had a key to your place but she was already dead by the time Trixie and I were there yesterday to bring you some things for your stay here. Many of those things we brought came from your bedroom. The break in must have happened sometime after that. What aren’t you telling us, Miss Chachki?”

Violet seemed mildly affronted by the accusation but carried on regardless. “I think it was Pearl. I don’t know what he’s after but there’s no one else it could be, unless someone took Fame’s key to my place and knew what it was for.” She sipped her tea daintily. “If Pearl really is Matt James Lent, he certainly would have heard of Sharon taking me away last night. He would be assured I wouldn’t be home.”

“You’re familiar with Mr. Lent then?” asked Max softly. 

“I’ve heard of him certainly, but I’ve never seen him. As himself that is. Everyone’s afraid of his husband. Now him I’ve had the misfortune of encountering a couple times. He always had a vendetta against Fame for being Sharon’s favorite.” She had fire in her eyes now, even as she looked away from them both. 

“Your message to us, ‘detoxicant’, care to explain?” Katya asked. 

“Detox Icunt,” she corrected. “Pearl’s husband. Sharon’s deadly right hand man. Fame’s murderer.”

Max’s jaw dropped open and Katya clenched her teeth. “You’re certain?” asked the Russian. 

“Yes,” she said tightly. “Are you actually going to believe me this time, Katya?”

The Russian scowled at her. 

Max put his arm around the burlesque performer. “You witnessed it?” he asked horrified. 

“Not exactly. But I heard it. And I held her as she died,” said Violet distantly. The memory of her ex-lover’s murder clearly affected her. Tears began to form in her eyes. “I thought the mob had taken you, Max. There’s a warehouse down on the docks that’s owned by Chad Michaels. He drives Sharon places oftentimes. Mr. Michaels is a decent sort though and I went in search for him, knowing he could take me to Sharon. Fame headed me off though, guessing correctly about my intentions. She also knew exactly where the warehouse was and I didn’t so she beat me there. We talked about the past and she forgave me. It was just a bad misunderstanding after all. Then we heard a car approaching and Fame pushed me into an empty shipping container. Detox wasn’t happy at all to see her there. He figured she was snooping around and it wasn’t her business. He said Sharon spoiled her and spent too much time with her. She was making him soft in his opinion. And it was time for a change.” Violet paused to wipe her eyes. Her voice shook when she resumed her story. “He shot her six times and drove off. Fame died protecting me. She’d always been protective of me but I never thought this would happen. I held her as she died. She stoked my hair, told me to stay safe and kissed me before she went…” She cried softly, trying to hold back the tears but as Max embraced her, she succumbed to the sadness of Fame’s loss.

Katya looked at the strong dame, reduced to a weeping mess in her partner’s arms. Maybe they’d all been right about Violet. She was in over her head. She was dangerous. She was in love with thrill. But she also was a rare creature and this world was soon going to snuff out her light if the detectives didn’t get to the bottom of her case and soon. 

“That solves Fame’s murder. Who attacked Max then? Do you have any idea?” Katya asked. 

Violet looked up startled. Even tear stained her face was still lovely. “You mean to say you actually believe me, Detective?” Max too looked baffled at Katya’s apparent change of heart. 

Truth be told, Katya still didn’t believe her but she needed to know what Violet truly wanted in order to get to the bottom of this mystery. “Yes. I don’t see why not. This Detox is not likely to give me a conflicting account after all,” she joked. 

Violet laughed. “I dare say he won’t. But forgive me if I doubt your sincerity. You’re far too proud to change your mind so quickly or admit to it so readily, Katya. And Miss Mattel is conspicuously absent. She too is suspicious of me. Perhaps not without reason. But I swear to you, detectives, I only lied to you in the beginning before I knew I could trust you. A woman in my position cannot afford to be too trusting. You understand, of course?”

Max nodded but Katya glared at the girl. She was far too clever. But Katya wasn’t going to let this one go. “You walk into my office with a sob story and you put everyone I know in danger and you think I should just trust you? Forgive me if I doubt your sincerity, Miss Chachki, but a woman in my position cannot afford to be so trusting. You understand, of course?”

Violet threw her head back and laughed. She smiled ruefully. “I deserved that. You are getting better at this, Detective. And you’re right. We don’t have any real reason to trust each other. I’ve brought naught but misfortune to you and yours since you took my case. What I thought was merely a missing lover has turned into a terrible mess. And you’re not wrong to note that it’s bad luck to love me - I leave behind a trail of broken hearts, and two of my former lovers have been murdered, one is missing and another has been assaulted. I haven’t lived a good life - I’ve been bad, worse than you could know.”

“You know, that’s good because if you actually were as innocent as you pretend to be, we’d never get anywhere,” Katya said coldly. 

“I never claimed to be an innocent but that doesn’t make me guilty, Detective. What precisely do you think I’ve done? Set up Max? Broke into my own apartment? Lied to you? Held the person I once cared for most in this world as she died just for thrills? Nothing I say or do will ever change your opinion of me, Katya. You’ve made up your mind that I’m the villain and don’t know where we can go from there.” She sighed.

All three of them sipped their tea in silence for a while before Violet spoke again. “Sharon has requested my presence at his club this weekend. He wants me to perform there. It’s against my contract with the Kit Kat Club but that matters little in the face of the demands of a god. I will attend even though I know it’s foolish. I don’t intend to let Sharon have me for his pet. Regardless, Detox will be there. Possibly his husband as well. Make of that what you will, Detectives.” She sighed again, clearly resigned, staring absently out the window. 

Max shot Katya a pleading look which she only answered with a shrug. Max glared at her. 

“Violet,” he began. “You can’t seriously be thinking of going to Sharon’s club,” he said gently.

She smiled sadly at him. “Oh Max. What choice do I have?”

Max frowned. “I could go with you,” he said, the fear and desperation sneaking into his tone. 

She shook her head ruefully. “There you go again, rushing to my rescue. You’re sweet Max, but don’t you see that’s impossible? Showing up at Sharon’s club with another man? He’d kill you on the spot. You’ve already been hurt on my account and I can’t forgive myself for that.” 

Katya coughed, reminding them she was still there as they’d obviously both forgotten about her. “Of course he’d kill another man. But what if you brought a woman?”

Violet raised a brow. “She would have to be beautiful,” she said guardedly. They all knew what she was really saying. If anyone, it would have to be Katya that accompanied her. Sharon’s famed love of beautiful women would permit nothing less. But of course, the Russian detective and the burlesque performer didn’t exactly see eye to eye.

Katya quickly weighed her options. Let Violet go alone and possibly never see the troublesome dame again. Go with her and have access to the very dangerous suspects in her case and possibly save the dame too. There was a strong possibility that they both might end up dead too. But if they made it out alive, Katya would have more information to solve the case. “I’ll do it,” she said finally. 

“You’ll need a gown,” she replied skeptically. “A vey nice one. Red I think would suit you best. We can go shopping, Katya. Just like girlfriends.” She laughed hollowly. 

Katya did not own such a gown but before she could protest, Max’s phone rang. Katya rushed to answer it as Trixie would be the most likely caller. She must have found something urgent.

“Hello?” she answered. 

“Hello Detective,” Trixie said woodenly. “We’ve a potential new client, a young man. He’s looking for a missing lover. He believes she was taken away by a dangerous man after work last night. He says he’s been by her apartment and she wasn’t there. He’d like us to find her.”

Katya’s jaw dropped open. It couldn’t be, could it? “We’ll be right there!” she managed. 

“Make sure to bring the flower when you do,” she said tightly before hanging up without a goodbye. Given her lover’s tone, Katya was worried. Was this man threatening her? Whatever was going on, she and Max needed to get back to the office fast. 

The “flower” herself was looking wide eyed at Katya. “Will you accompany us back to the office, Miss Chachki? Trixie has requested your presence. And Max, how steady is your aim? She may not be alone.”

Violet and Max gasped simultaneously. “Let’s go! We’ll take my car,” ordered Violet, immediately hurrying to help Max up and gather their things.

In no time at all they were in Violet’s car and thanks to her driving they were at the office faster than Katya would have thought possible. Trixie’s strange phone call had put them all on edge. 

They exited the elevator in silence and drew their weapons. Katya was shocked when Violet too pulled out a gun from her handbag. It was a beautiful Smith & Wesson M10 revolver, .38mm with an inlaid mother of pearl handle. A six-shooter. Fame had been murdered with one. She’d have to call Officer Fierce later to verify the type of gun that had killed the chanteuse but no time to think on that now. Trixie was in danger. 

Katya slammed open the office door, startling Trixie and the young man she had been sitting with. He reflexively pulled out a handgun and aimed it at the Russian. They stared each other down over the barrel of their guns. Violet had apparently pushed ahead of Max and followed Katya in. She gasped at the sight. 

“Pearl?”


	11. Chapter 6: These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

Katya kept her gun trained on the young man, wary of what he might have done to Trixie. With the revelation that this was Matt James Lent, also known as Pearl, she was even more on edge. But then Max entered the office. 

"You!" the younger detective exclaimed. 

Pearl sneered. "I knew I should have made sure you were dead," he growled. 

Violet gasped. "You assaulted Max?" 

"I was trying to protect you, Violet!" he claimed. 

"And what makes you think I need you to protect me?" she spat angrily. 

"You're in danger, Vi! More than you know. I'm glad I found you before Sharon could. We need to-"

Violet cut him off with a laugh. "Before? Oh Pearl, where have you been? Sharon took me home last night. Marked me up all pretty too." She unbuttoned her collar and her once-lover stiffened. "I know I'm in danger but what can you possibly do about it?" He bristled at the challenge in her eyes. 

"I remember you used to wear that dress when I was the one who marked you up all pretty," he said bitterly. "Violet, please don't be like this. I love you." Katya lowered her gun but didn't remove her finger from the trigger as she watched the former lovers' confrontation unfold. Max and Trixie stood to the side, motionless as Violet and Pearl faced off. The nightclub performer looked ready to spit fire. 

"You've no claim on me and no right to tell me what to do! You lied to me. You played me false. You put me in danger. To say nothing of how you assaulted an innocent man! And now you have the gall to show up and say you're trying to protect me? How dare you, Matthew James Lent!" She slapped him hard across the face. He looked up indignantly as he held his stinging cheek. Violet wasn't done with him yet. 

"I was mistaken, Mr. Lent. We have met before," she said coldly. "You danced with me at Sharon's birthday party. You didn't tell me who you were then. I guess it was too much to expect you to do so now. You're not looking out for me. Hell, you're not even looking out for anyone but yourself! You poisoned my relationship with Fame. You got her fired! You tore us apart so you could have me. And once you had me you didn't know what to do with me without revealing your double life. So you dressed me in a stolen crown and photographed it. And then you disappeared without a trace. But you obviously didn't go far. Stalking me and watching my apartment. Beating up a man I took willingly into my bed. It was probably you who ransacked my apartment too. This isn't love. I don't know what it is but I do know that I want nothing more to do with you. Your husband murdered Fame too. I think you've both done enough damage." Violet's fury was indeed a terrifying thing to behold and the others did not even dare move, immobilized by her impassioned speech.

After a long moment, the duplicitous man shifted uncomfortably. Matt didn't even try to deny her accusations. "Violet, listen to me. I had to. I don't know where the crown is now but Sharon is going to find out you had it and he'll kill you! He won't even give it a second thought."

Violet threw back her head and laughed. "When Sharon kills me, it won't because of that crown. Besides, if he knows about that photograph, someone obviously had to take the picture. Sharon is more than acquainted with your hobby, Mr. Lent. I would not be making threats if I were you." The seductress' eyes flashed dangerously. 

"Violet, you don't understand the level of danger you're in!" he cried passionately. He looked about to continue but Violet interjected. 

"Don't I? No Mr. Lent, I think it's you who does not understand. You may think you can save me from Sharon but you can't. And I am not interested in anything further from you. Please leave before you cause yourself any further embarrassment," she dismissed him coldly. 

Mr. Lent gathered himself and began to head to the office door, but not before delivering some parting words to the burlesque performer. 

"You'll regret this, Violet. Mark my words. Sharon won't be in power much longer either. No one is safe." He left without looking back. 

The detectives turned to the nightclub performer. She was positively shaking with barely contained rage. She huffed and tossed her revolver aside, forgotten in her hand this whole time. 

It was Max who broke the silence. "Are you alright, Violet?"

She sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping. "I will be. I'm so sorry, detectives. You've been so much help to me but I think it's best I go now. I'll come by and collect my things later, Max. Thank you for your hospitality." She smiled sadly at them, not unlike how the burlesque performer did when she first met them. 

"You mean you're leaving, Miss Violet?" asked Trixie, worried and surprised at the turn of events. 

"Yes. There's nothing more to solve, detectives. You've found my missing Pearl for me. You know who assaulted Max and who murdered Fame. You've solved the case as I've hired you to do. You were just as skilled as Miss Delano promised me you'd be. You'll have your money within the week. Goodbye, and thank you all." The sultry burlesque performer stood to leave. 

"Violet, please don't go! You're still in danger," pleaded Max. Even still, he seemed to know it was futile to try to change her mind. Violet smiled sadly at him. 

"What more can you three do?" she said, not unkindly. "You heard Mr. Lent, you know what's coming. What can we few do against that? You've worked with the police too. You know Officer Fierce and his men are overmatched. From here on out, no one is safe. I am under no illusions. I've been in danger since I first came to this city, and it's only worsened since I've caught Sharon's eye. Any moment could be my last. You've been kind to me for the most part and I've brought you three enough misfortune. It's time I left you," she concluded. 

"Don't go, Miss Chachki." To everyone's surprise including her own, it was Katya who spoke. "Don't go," she repeated. "Your case may be solved, but it is not resolved. Pearl and Detox walk free still. We could surely use your help bringing them to justice." Violet looked askance at Katya. The Russian dare not look away from that questioning gaze even though she could feel her partner and her lover looking similarly at her. "You are still going to Club Seven this weekend, are you not?" inquired the Russian.

"I am," the performer replied guardedly. "You don't mean to say you still intend to accompany me?"

Trixie's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You two are going to Club Seven together?" 

"Sharon requires my presence. Katya thinks she could learn something more for this investigation there," explained Violet. "It's incredibly dangerous though. I'm not sure the risk is worth it for you, Katya." Violet's big eyes were full of concern for her and Katya couldn't help but wonder about her sincerity. 

Trixie was looking confusedly between them as Violet continued to look pleadingly at her. Katya took the moment to consider what had just transpired. Somehow Pearl had come to Trixie looking for help in finding Violet, only to have the dame dismiss him almost immediately after finding out that he had truly done her dirty. Now she was ready to leave them all behind and was practically begging Katya to stay away from Sharon's club. Almost as if she were trying to protect them. If she truly meant them harm, she easily could have done nothing, allowing the mob to discover their connection and putting the entire trio into danger. Could it be that Violet was telling the truth this whole time?

Another thought slithered its way into Katya's mind. What if Violet and Pearl were in cahoots in this? This all might very well be an act. They had only Violet's word that she and Fame had made up before her apparent death at Detox's hands. Violet might very well have killed the chanteuse herself. Pearl had certainly been Max's assailant and hadn't denied breaking into Violet's apartment. Katya didn't know what to think but she had to give Violet an answer. 

"I- I need a gown, Miss Chachki. You have an excellent eye for fashion. Perhaps you could assist me in selecting one? I recall you mentioned red would be a suitable color for me." The Russian saw the expression on her lover's face darken. Violet and Max both had unreadable looks on their faces. 

"Sharon arranged for a pair of fine dressmakers. If we want something else on such short notice, we shouldn't delay," Violet said uncertainty. "Are you sure about this, Katya?"

"Quite sure. I think it is time that I met this so-called God," affirmed the Russian detective resolutely. 

"You put yourself in grave danger, Katya. But if you're certain..." Violet trailed off worriedly. "I'll make the arrangements." She picked up a pen and paper and wrote down an address. "Meet me at this atelier in an hour or so." She pulled her car keys out of her purse and wordlessly pressed them into Max's hand. 

"You'll stay with me then?" he asked, trying and failing to keep the hope out of his voice. She gave him a small smile.

"If you'll have me," she said simply, knowing full well by now that he would happily have her stay the rest of her life with him. 

"Always." Look of longing passed between them before Violet broke their shared gaze. 

"Until later then, detectives," she bid them, hurrying from the office. The trio watched her go, pausing for a moment to be sure she was truly away. 

Trixie spoke first. "What that was a lot to take in," she sighed before she whirled on her lover. "You're going to Needles' club with that little minx? I thought you didn't trust her further than you could throw her? She's clearly leading you into a trap!" 

"I am not entirely certain she is," countered Katya. The others looked at her oddly. Trixie looked particularly displeased and Max looked quite confused by the complete switch in her and Trixie's opinions on Violet's innocence but he said nothing. 

Katya rarely changed her mind about matters such as this but something about Violet made her want to go against everything she knew and believe the secretive dame. "Miss Chachki remains a mystery but one of two possibilities must be the reality of the situation. 1. She is and has always been lying to us. Or 2. She is and has always been telling us the truth. I'm afraid the only way to discern the truth is for me to accompany our alluring client into the lion's den. Every time we delve deeper into this case, we end up with more questions than answers."

Trixie scowled. "She gave you an out, Katya. Her case is solved. Why get further involved? Delving deeper is just going to put us all in danger. You heard the dame. 'When Sharon kills me' she said. Not if. When. Miss Chachki is under no illusions about how much danger she is in. And she's right about neither Matty nor us being able to protect her. Miss Chachki's days are numbered and she's still got you both wrapped around her little finger." Trixie heaved a heavy sigh, knowing she was not going to win this one. 

After a moment, the young Englishman spoke. "Wait, Matty? Not Mr. Lent?" he pointed out. 

Trixie froze. "I uh... I knew him once. When we were younger. I didn't think he'd remember me. It was a different city, a different time in our lives. I might have been fond of him then. But he's changed a lot. He's not the sweet boy I used to know. This city has a way of changing people, and not for the better."

"Did he threaten you, Trix?" asked the Russian. 

Trixie shook her head. "No, but we were surprised to see each other. His name has kept coming up in this case but somehow I couldn't believe it. But seeing him again... I guess I can now. I should have mentioned I knew him before this. I'm sorry."

Max gripped her shoulder sympathetically. "No harm done, Trixie. I'm glad you're alright. We were so worried about you after that call," he said sympathetically. 

"I'm sorry about that. I just wasn't expecting 'Pearl' to just show up. Looking for Violet too. I mean what are the odds they'd both pick us to find each other?" she asked bitterly. 

Katya carefully picked up Violet's gun where she had forgotten it in her haste. "What are the odds indeed? What was the murder weapon used on Miss Fame?"

Trixie gasped. "A 38mm Smith & Wesson. Katya, you don't really think?"

"That proves nothing!" interjected Max. "It's a common handgun."

Trixie moved quickly to fetch files from the desk. "Max is right. Detox also uses a .38 Smith & Wesson." She handed Katya the information she had accumulated over the years on the hitman. Case details on his known assassinations. Known aliases and associates. Police sketches. A newspaper article about a car accident he'd been in. An old lover's suicide. His wedding to Matt. His connection to Sharon. It was all very detailed. A 38mm Smith & Wesson was also his weapon of choice so it didn't really narrow down who had really murdered the talkative chanteuse. 

"Dead end," pointed out Max. "We can't prove one way or the other whether it was Violet or Detox killed that Fame. Not from this alone."

Katya nodded in agreement. The gun type proved nothing. "Either way, I have an appointment with that dangerously beautiful creature that I intend to keep. We'll just have to keep investigating," sighed the Russian. 

Max held up Violet's keys. "We can all take her car." 

Trixie shook her head. "Take Katya to the atelier and then go rest Max. I still don't trust her. I'm going to stay here and go though some more files. See what I can dig up." A look passed between the lovers, with Katya vowing silently to make things up to Trixie later. 

Max put on his coat. "Alright, Trixie. Take care." She straightened his tie for him as they said their goodbyes. 

Katya didn't bother with discretion. She pulled Trixie into her arms and grabbed her plush posterior with both hands, kissing her breathless before pulling away. "She you later tonight, Trix," purred the Russian, smug about her lover's reaction. 

"Until then, Kat," promised Trixie. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Max dropped Katya off in front of the atelier and the Russian ventured inside, wary of a trap. Violet was seated inside looking distinctly bored, although it was likely a front for what was really going on in her head. Katya approached her cautiously, careful not to startle her. 

"Violet?" she said softly. 

Big brown eyes turned to look at her, and the dame smiled seductively. "There you are, Katya." She rose and pulled the Russian into a tight hug. Katya stiffened in surprise but Violet merely whispered in her ear. "They're loyal to Sharon so be careful of what you say here."

Violet plastered on a smile and lead Katya to the receptionist. She took them into the back dressing room and told them to take off their clothes so that they'd be ready once the modistes joined them. 

Still on edge from earlier, Katya watched as Violet began to undress by removing her sweater, unable to resist taking a look as a bit of that creamy, perfect skin was revealed. Violet looked over her shoulder at Katya and smiled enticingly. "I suppose you did miss my show last night. I could give you a private one right now," she said breathily. "You've got to undress too though. I could help." The Russian did not pull away and Violet's slender fingers made short work of Katya's buttons and soon her sweater fell forgotten to the floor. Button by button, Violet teased Katya as she undressed her. Katya made to undress Violet too and got her hands slapped away for her effort. The Russian found herself in only her brasserie and knickers when Violet pulled away to give her the promised private show, artfully striping off her own clothes and tantalizing the detective. Inch by inch, she took off her dress, teasing Katya with the reveal of finally seeing her nearly naked in such close quarters. It was an enticing situation. Her dress finally hit the floor and Katya took in the splendor of Violet's slender body, covered now only by a tight corset, tiny panties and lacy brassiere. The black set looked lovely on her. Even covered in Sharon's marks, she looked utterly alluring. The heat in her eyes drew Katya closer, knowing full well she was about to play with fire. 

She pinned the burlesque performer against the wall, and noted with no small amount of satisfaction that Violet's lips had parted, her eyes were blown wide and her breathing became shallow. She was not unaffected by their proximity. The detective's hands came up to caress Violet's tempting breasts, massaging and teasing the flesh as the performer sighed breathily, her head lolling back as she let Katya explore her body. 

The Russian detective traced a bruise on the burlesque performer's exposed neck that the mob boss had given her. Violet's skin did look pretty, Katya mused, lovely shades of violet instead of the usual porcelain. Katya wondered what it would be like to leave her own marks on that delicate skin. The girl herself seemed to know what was on her mind. Violet swallowed before speaking softly. 

"Another mark wouldn't be noticed. No one would know except for us," she whispered. 

Katya gave her a heated look and moved to mark her up when two immensely fashionable men appeared. They jumped apart immediately.

"Miss Chachki, it's pleasure to see you again," greeted the one with the impressive silver beard, his eyes twinkling. "And who have we here?"

"Mathu, this is Katya. Katya, Mathu. And that's Marco," she indicated the other man in the room. 

"A pleasure," Katya said brusquely, still a bit displeased that they had been interrupted in their illicit act. 

Mathu looked her up and down. "I take it you don't work alongside Miss Chachki," he stated.

Katya pursed her lips. "I do not."

The dressmakers chuckled. Mathu pulled several bolts of fabric for Violet as Marco began to take Katya's measurements. They said nothing of Violet's marks or of the compromising position they had discovered the pair in. 

Wordlessly, Marco pulled a bolt of slinky red satin crepe and began to drape it about Katya. He obviously agreed with Violet's assessment that red was her color. 

Mathu seemed to be having trouble deciding what to drape Violet in as everything looked good on her. He struck up a conversation as he decided. "It was awful to hear about Fame. Bright young girl. Such a beautiful soul to match her beautiful face. She never did get over you, you know," he added.

Violet couldn't keep the pain off her fair face. "I know. I can't even process her loss. Her ghost haunts me in the form of memories and regrets. I can't help but recall all the time we've spent together. I regret that we didn't get more time together." Tears began to fall freely down her face and Mathu pulled the beautiful, fine textiles away before handing her a scrap of muslin to dry her eyes on. "If only I had listened to her and we hadn't wasted so much time being jealous of each other. We were so young and foolish." She laughed bitterly through the tears. 

Katya was sorely tempted to take the dame into her arms and let her cry on her shoulder but Marco and his pins kept her still. When did I turn into Max, wanting to rush to her side anytime she sheds a tear, wondered Katya to herself. 

"Every time I see a thin platinum blonde, I can't help but hope it's her," she admitted. "I know it's stupid. I saw her corpse with my own two eyes but I can't even begin to understand that she's really gone. I hear her voice in my head and her laugh and how she'd sing scales while she'd put on her makeup and I remember how she'd hold my waist whenever she stood behind me and I remember how it felt to be held by her and I remember the way her hair smelled just after a shower. I remember how beautiful she looked when she sang Sharon happy birthday and how her face would light up when she told me tales of the chickens she raised as a child. It sickens me that I'll never see or feel that ever again. I'll never hold her in my arms ever again. Someone murdered her and took her out of this world. They'll never know the suffering they caused by snuffing out her light. She was a beautiful person, inside and out and I'm blessed to have known and loved her. I can only hope she's in a better place now." Violet was sobbing freely now, uncaring of how she mussed her makeup or that the three others in the room were spectators to her grief. She didn't see them, her eyes no doubt fixed on a memory of the woman she had once loved and would now never see again and Katya's heart ached to witness it. However much the detective might have doubted the sultry performer, there was no way her grief over Fame was anything but genuine. Katya almost felt bad about suspecting the girl of murdering a woman whom she clearly loved. 

"Miss Fame truly was a wonderful woman. She will indeed be missed. But at least you have another beauty to comfort you and share your bed, Miss Chachki." Mathu stared pointedly at Katya. 

Violet somehow manage to blush prettily even whilst sniffling. "Katya has truly been a great help to me in these troubled times. I don't know what I'd do without her." She smiled fondly. 

"Sharon was not aware you had a new lady love, but I cannot foresee him being displeased should you bring her with you, especially wearing one of our fine dresses," stated Mathu. "You two will make a striking pair, all pretty and dolled up for our God. He will be most pleased. Mr. Needles has arranged payment. Your dresses will be ready the day of. We'll see you and your lady then, Ms. Chachki. I'm certain you both will be pleased with the results," he dismissed them as Marco removed the pinned fabric from Katya's body and they withdrew, leaving the two women to redress.

The detective whirled on the vixen. "How much of that was an act?" growled lowly Katya as soon as they were alone inside the atelier. 

Violet looked her straight in the eyes but Katya couldn't help but steal another good look at her barely clad body before returning her gaze. "My lust for you has never been an act, detective. If not for Max and Trixie, I'd happily share your bed. You'd be rough with me and cover me in marks and show me no mercy. You'd not stop until I was yours, body and soul. And you'd bellow in triumph at having conquered something as wild as me. You wouldn't stop there either. You'd take me again and again until you'd had your fill, glutted on the pleasure of it all. And we'd both be so satisfied," she purred lowly, her sultry, sinful voice doing things to Katya. 

"But sadly, it is not to be," she continued. "We're in danger, entering Sharon's world like this. Better he think we're lovers and keep Max and Trixie out of this. I almost hoped you had changed your mind about coming with me. But selfishly I confess that I am glad not to have to go to Club Seven alone. We've had our differences, you and I, but I've come to grow fond of you. Max and Trixie are indeed very lucky to have you," she trailed off. 

"Speaking of Max, what are your intentions with my partner?" Katya needed to remind herself why taking Violet to bed was not a good idea. Violet might very well be a murderer, or plotting something. But looking at her it was hard to remember that. Trixie was right of course- Violet did have both her and Max wrapped around her little finger. 

The sexy dame's lips quirked into a small smile. "You pin me against a wall and look me up and down hungrily and now you ask about him?" She laughed softly before continuing seriously. "Max is a rare soul, a light in all this darkness. He's too good for us all and we both know it, Katya. It's why we try so hard to protect him from being tarnished and ruined. He's a good man, and good men are hard to find. Were things different, I wouldn't play this game with him. But as it is, I can't let him have me. As much I want to be had by him. I think I could love him but I don't get a happily ever after in this story. You know that too I think. You've seen enough cases. Lots of girls turn up dead in this city. Like Nicole and Courtney. Like Fame. It's not long until I'm one of them too. My luck has finally run out. Promise you'll take care of Max for me when this is over," pleaded the beautiful dame earnestly. 

"I will," she solemnly vowed. They departed the atelier and began to walk down the street in silence. 

After a while, Violet heaved a heavy sigh. "I left my revolver at your office. I'd rather not be without it for much longer. I'll accompany you back there. Perhaps I can be of some use to you and Miss Mattel too," she said sinfully. Katya had a hard time keeping visions of the three of them in the bedroom together out of her head after that. This girl would be the death of her someday.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Immediately, the pair knew something was terribly wrong at the office. The front door had been taken off its hinges. Fear gripped them. Violet gasped as they took in the scene. 

Everything had been trashed, windows smashed and files were strewn about the floor amongst splinters of furniture. They raced to find Trixie, hoping that she had escaped the destruction, but they both realized that it was unlikely. Finally, the Russian spotted her. 

Katya rushed over to Trixie's unconscious body, praying to a god she didn't believe in that her lover was going to be okay. The huge pool of blood surrounding her said otherwise. 

Dangerously sharp debris surrounded her lifeless form. Katya had seen enough crime scenes to recognize the patterns. Multiple assailants. Trixie hadn't stood a chance. She cradled that sweet blonde head in her lap, disregarding the broken glass, splinters and spilt blood. None of that mattered. Katya howled in grief, her world narrowed to the limp form in her lap. She rocked Trixie back and forth, screaming and crying. 

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, she can't be!" she blubbered. "Please. Anything but this! It should have been me! Not her! She didn't deserve this! Anything but this!"

"Katya, stop shaking her!" Violet had to grab the Russian's wrist painfully to get her attention. "She's breathing!"

Katya finally looked at her. Really looked. Trixie was terribly pale as she'd lost a lot of blood. Her body was battered and still bleeding. Her face was beaten so badly her features were unrecognizable. But just as Violet said, she was breathing. Just barely but she was. 

Violet handed Katya some gauze she'd evidently located. "We've got to stop the bleeding. I'm going to call an ambulance. She needs a doctor fast."

Katya took the gauze numbly. Fear and hope warring in her chest. "Call Dr. DuJour too," she managed to croak out. Violet nodded grimly and left Katya to tend to Trixie's bleeding. There was so much blood Katya didn't know where to begin.

It shouldn't have been like this. Katya always knew this day would come. She'd been unable to protect Trixie. The Russian detective had long known that theirs was a dangerous profession and that Trixie was not exempt from that danger just because she was their secretary. Katya felt it was her duty to keep her young partner and their secretary safe and she'd failed them both spectacularly. It had been she ultimately who had decided to take up Miss Chachki's case after all and they had been the ones to pay the price. 

Their client was indeed making phone calls to people who could help, explaining the situation as best she could. Katya vaguely noted that she also called Max and Officer Fierce but all she could do was stare numbly down at Trixie's sorry state. All because of her stupid decisions. She should have insisted that Trixie come with them. Or go with Max at least. Not leave her alone here where she was vulnerable. They probably found her easily, posing as clients before they overwhelmed her and beat her senseless. It was sickening.

Katya looked down at the broken body in her arms. Even if help arrived quickly, there was no way Trixie would survive this. Katya howled, swearing vengeance on the culprits. 

Violet returned to her side. "Detox will pay for this," the burlesque performer vowed ominously. 

"Detox?" asked Katya quietly. Violet merely pointed in response. In her haste to reach Trixie, she hadn't noticed the message painted in red on their wall. 

"WE'RE GOING TO DETOX THIS CITY"

Katya shook with rage. The mob had run the city for too long. Now innocents like Trixie were casualties in this horrific violence and the Russian detective wouldn't stand for this any longer.

The door clattered open before Katya could do anything rash, Dr. DuJour looking disheveled as he entered and took in the crime scene. 

"My god..." he gasped in horror before immediately rushing to stabilize Trixie. He put them to work and the rest passed in a blur. She, Violet and Dr. DuJour rushing to do anything to try to save Trixie until an ambulance arrived.

Violet held her hand as they sat in the back of the vehicle, speeding towards the hospital with lights flashing and sirens blaring. Once there, they took Trixie away to an operating room and Max joined her and Violet in the waiting room. She paced restlessly, thinking of Trixie under the knife, wondering if even the best of modern medicine would be able to save her, as broken and battered as she was. Violet and Max sat by, lost in their own thoughts and worries. 

Hours past and the three were all on edge, exhausted from concern before Dr. DuJour finally reappeared. His face was grim. Katya was vaguely aware of Violet and Max flanking her, ready to catch her or hold her back if she needed after hearing the good doctor's news. 

"I'm going to give it to you straight. She's alive but she's not in good shape. She may not make it through this. The surgeon had to remove a part of her skull to alleviate the swelling of her brain. She's in a coma and she'll have to come out of that on her own. She's a fighter. But there's nothing further we can do," he said seriously. 

"Either she comes out of it or she doesn't. And if she does, there's no way to gauge how severely damaged her brain is until then. She may never be the same again." He turned to Katya. "You'll have to prepare for any eventuality. I know you don't want to think about this, but does she have a will prepared? Next of kin? Any living family?"

Katya stared numbly at him. Violet put her slender arm around the Russian detective. "As soon as we find out, we'll let you know, Doctor," said Violet gently. 

"She's got two adopted sisters. I'm not sure what happened to their parents," croaked out Katya. "There should be an address book somewhere around her apartment." 

"I'll fetch it," volunteered Max. "You and Violet can stay here with Trixie."

Katya nodded numbly. She couldn't believe any of this was real. Trixie looked angelic even covered in cuts and bruises. Her hair had been shaven, revealing fresh surgery scars and the part of the skull that had been removed. Unconscious in her coma, she was unaware of the turbulence around her. Not even when Trixie's sisters were called did it seem real. The two promised to arrive as soon as they were able to in a couple days. In the meantime, she, Max and Violet held constant vigil over Trixie's bedside, searching for the slightest indication she might be waking up but in vain. 

Violet held Katya often in those days, offering her whatever comfort she could. Katya did not so much sleep as doze fitfully against Violet's side. She didn't eat so much as permit Violet to feed her. She did not drink except for when Violet pressed a cup to her lips. Katya was too numb to care about what happened to her while Trixie was in such a state and Violet refused to let her give up so easily. Max watched it all with a troubled look on his fair, angelic face. 

Days passed identically in that place. It wasn't until their received a call that their dresses for tonight were ready that they realized that they were due at Club Seven in mere hours. The perpetrators of this heinous crime were likely to also be in attendance. But more importantly, Sharon Needles was awaiting them and Violet and Katya had no choice but to attend. They bid goodbye to Max and Trixie and left to prepare for what would likely be their own funerals.


	12. Chapter 7: Hell Is Empty And The Devils Are All Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: After an almost year long hiatus, I'm finally resuming writing this story. Thank you if you've stuck with me this long. And if you're just discovering this story, welcome.  
> ❤️ Wolfie

Katya sat at a vanity desk that wasn't hers, holding a pretty dress in her lap that she hadn't paid for, getting ready for a party that she didn't even want to attend. She had nothing to celebrate after all. Her lover was in a coma she wasn't likely to wake from, and here Katya was getting dolled up to go to a club as if nothing was wrong. It made her sick. 

Katya stared numbly at her own reflection in the mirror and watched as the beautiful burlesque performer appeared, already wearing a beaded white showgirl costume and her makeup done flawlessly. Her own pretty dress was draped over her graceful wrist, not yet put away in its case. She took in Katya's state of undress and sighed, placing the dress down on the bed. 

"Talk to me, Katya. What are you thinking?" she said gently as she came to stand next to the detective, their eyes meeting in the mirror. The Russian merely stared numbly back at her. "Let me guess. You're feeling guilty. Partying when you should be at her bedside, in forlorn vigil, waiting for the day that your worst fears are realized. She's not dead but you're already mourning her." Violet's big eyes were full of concern. 

Katya swallowed. "When that was happening to her, we were..." she trailed off, unable to continue. Violet understood though. The detective had had the beautiful dame pinned up against a wall whilst elsewhere her lover was being attacked. 

"And now you can't bear to spend an evening pretending to be my lover. You're right, it isn't fair to Trixie. But you owe it to her to do this anyway."

Katya turned to stare at her, and not her reflection, uncomprehendingly. Violet stood firm. "Here's why: those responsible will be there tonight. This is your best chance to bring them to justice and avenge Trixie. The cops won't take on the whole mob but they can nab a couple crooks. Especially in such a publicized case as this. You owe her that much." She pointed to the dress on Katya's lap. "This is your battle armor." She indicated the makeup scattered on the vanity. "This is your war paint." She held the detective's cheek. "This is your weapon. Will you be ready for battle, Katya?"

Katya begrudgingly accepted that Violet was completely right about this. They'd be on a unfamiliar battlefield and it was best to be ready. "You're right," she admitted. "I find I am unaccustomed to this war you fight on a daily basis, Violet. I believe I require some assistance."

Violet seemed surprised at Katya's admission but did not remark upon it. "Anything you need, my friend." Violet kneeled at the detective's feet and grabbed her hand, holding it with both of hers. She had a serious look on her face. "Promise me something please. Whatever happens tonight, you need to make it out. Max and Trixie need you. You have to be there for them. Promise me you'll do that Katya, please."

The burlesque performer was asking her to leave her behind if things got bad. "I'm no coward, Violet. I'm not leaving you."

"I know you're no coward. I daresay you're too brave in fact. Which is why I'm reminding you that there are more important things here," she said solemnly. 

Katya gave the burlesque performer's hand a squeeze. "I know. And Violet," she paused before continuing, "when did we become friends?" She smiled softly at the other girl. 

"When we stopped doubting and started being blunt with each other, I think." She returned her smile. "Let me help you with your dress. They did such an amazing job on it. You'll look stunning in it."

Wordlessly, Katya put on her dress and allowed Violet to do up the buttons on the back. The detective closed her eyes as she let the performer do her hair and makeup, knowing the girl was an artist with her powders and creams. She relaxed into the brushstrokes and focused on centering herself. Violet was right, they were going to battle tonight and the Russian needed to be at the top of her game. 

"There," declared the nightclub performer. "You look like you could break a few hearts tonight." Violet smirked devilishly. Katya finally opened her eyes. She barely recognized the foxy lady staring back at her. 

Her hair hung down in soft waves, her eyes painted with striking black kohl and her lips a sinful, alluring red. Her cheeks looked attractively flushed, her brows drawn perfectly and her skin smooth and luminous. Katya looked more like a seductive nightclub performer than a respected detective. Her mouth hung open in shock. 

"What do you think?" purred the fashionable girl, clearly pleased with herself. 

"I look sexy!" she cried, half-impressed, half-horrified. 

Violet chuckled. "That you do. Use it to your advantage tonight. I'm going to distract them. Just do your job, Katya. And make it though this." She kissed the top of the detective's head. "For luck," she said. 

A knock at the door signaled the end of their time to prepare. Sharon was here. Violet hurried to answer the door and Katya followed close behind. The burlesque performer admitted the mob boss and the detective finally got a good look at the man who believed himself a god. 

Sharon was tall and lean, sharply dressed in a solid black suit and matching tie, the outfit perfectly tailored to his body. A pair of thick-framed glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose and his fair hair was slicked back. Katya was secure enough in her homosexuality to admit he was an attractive man. He moved with the dangerous grace of a predator and everything about his posture suggested that he very much considered Violet his prey.

Hungrily he took in Violet's appearance as he looked her up and down, whether searching for flaws and weaknesses or merely mentally undressing her, Katya was uncertain. Either way, the detective was rather impressed by the way the beautiful dame stood unbowed under that unnerving gaze. 

"Evening, Miss Chachki. You look especially beautiful tonight I must say. This is a charming costume. I trust you've your gown from Mathu and Marco as well?" He inquired politely. He spoke softly, not needing to raise his voice, knowing that people were hanging on to his every word. 

"Good evening, Mr. Needles," she said breathily, fluttering her eyelashes coquettishly at him, "I was just about to go put my dress in a travel case. You've met my, uh, friend Katya before, haven't you?" she stumbled purposefully over the word, drawing Sharon's attention to it. 

Sharon's intense gaze now fixed on her. "I have heard of Detective Zamolodchikova before, but I've never met this beautiful lady until now. Seems a pity we are only just getting aquatinted," he said silkily, offering his hand. The Russian took it.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Needles. I've heard so much about you." Katya wasn't even lying. 

Sharon kissed Katya's hand. "I'm sure you have. And please, call me Sharon," he replied graciously. "Miss Chachki, why don't you finish packing your dress away? Then we can all head to the club. Chad has the car waiting out front." He smiled kindly at her and Violet nodded and went to fetch her dress, leaving Katya momentarily alone with the self-proclaimed God. 

Sharon's eyes were fixed upon her as he began to speak. "May I call you Katya? 

The detective nodded, still wary of this man. He was nothing like she expected. She knew what monstrosities he was capable of, for while she didn't know his name or face before, she'd been living in this city too long not to notice what the mob had done and how the city had become a horrible place of despair and desperation. Monstrous, however, wasn't exactly the first word that came to mind when she looked at him now and it bothered her more than she cared to admit. How dare he be so nice to her when she was determined to hate him. 

"If it's not to bold to inquire, long have you been a friend of Miss Chachki's?"

"Not very long, truth be told. But she has a certain way about her," Katya answered truthfully. 

Sharon chuckled good-naturedly. "That she does." Violet thankfully reappeared before Katya was forced to make any more small talk with the self-proclaimed God. 

"It isn't nice to talk about a lady behind her back," simpered Violet, her voice high and airy. Seeing her act this way around the mob boss gave Katya a sense of just how real she'd been with them this whole time. They'd only seen glimpses of this version of the alluring entertainer. This version was terribly dangerous, fooling men into thinking she was just an air-headed slut when in reality she was a clever young woman who did what she had to in order to survive. Katya began to realize just how unfair she'd been to Violet this whole time. 

Sharon on the other hand, had fallen for the alluring dame's ruse. He smiled devilishly at her. "Forgive me, Miss Chachki. How ungentlemanly of me. There are far better things to do behind a lady's back than talk about her." By now he had circled behind her, and had set about nibbling on her graceful neck. She giggled sillily and playfully withdrew from his grasp. 

"Why, Mr. Needles, what sort of girl do you think I am?" she gasped, feigning offense. She fluttered her long eyelashes at him as her hand came up to her breast. 

"A beautiful and confident one, who owns her sexuality onstage and off," he purred at her, clearly remembering the night they'd previously spent together. His marks on her had faded but the memories hadn't. "It's time we departed, as I have a stage for you to grace tonight. We've kept Chad waiting long enough."

The only two women in the city who would dare defy Sharon Needles followed the city's god to his car. Violet shot Katya a glance of reassurance while the mob boss wasn't looking. Katya took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. Hand in hand, they began their journey to the very seat of Sharon's kingdom. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

After arriving at the club, Katya contented herself to watching Violet flirt with the mob boss, the burlesque performer shamelessly using her sex appeal to distract Sharon. She had him wrapped around her little finger. The detective played along, curiously observing how different not only how Violet acted, but also how differently she herself was treated. Chad and Sharon had not permitted her or Violet to do anything for themselves and the burlesque performer had to hold her hand tightly to keep her from protesting. 

It was a strange thing, to be treated as a strictly decorative object. Well, not strictly. The way Sharon looked at Violet suggested he had at least one use for her. Truth be told, Katya hated it. No wonder Violet didn't want to always play this game. She was far too clever for this but yet with the system stacked against her as it was, it was no wonder she played along. At least her cleverness allowed her to benefit from the condescending desires of powerful men without giving up too much. 

Violet continued to hold her hand and shoot her looks, flirtatious on the surface but Katya knew they were truly born of concern. Should the Russian blow their cover, the mob boss would not take kindly to being deceived. And as the burlesque beauty had sagely pointed out to her, she had to survive this night for Max and Trixie, even if it meant abandoning Violet. Some of the horror must've shown on her face, drawing the attention of the self-proclaimed God. 

"Something the matter, Miss Katya? You look concerned." Sharon peered at her, seeming genuinely concerned. She stared at him, unable to formulate an answer. 

Violet wrapped the detective's hands in her own. "She's just worried about the dancing," the burlesque performer said smoothly. The best part about it was she wasn't even really lying. Katya was concerned about having to dance. She hadn't learned the popular dances of this country as she herself had no use for them. She was not exactly the type to frequent dance halls in hopes of attracting a suitor. 

Sharon smiled kindly at her. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. I suppose you've not had much opportunity to learn after all. I'm sure there's more than a few people in attendance tonight who would be willing to teach a beautiful woman like you how to do a few steps." Katya nodded along, not trusting her mouth. She didn't want to dance; all she wanted was to find out who had assaulted Trixie. 

Thankfully their arrival afforded her little time to dwell upon the state of her lover. Mimicking Violet, she threaded her arm through Sharon's once they were out of the car. It was obvious from the moment they walked in how much the god enjoyed having two beautiful women to flaunt before the assembled who's who of the city's underworld. Katya recognized a great many faces from the newspapers, criminals who had walked free from corrupt courts and it made her blood boil. But most sinister of all was the presence of one Matt James Lent, wrapped sensuously around a man Katya could only imagine was his husband Detox. 

Unbidden, an image of crimson letters spelling out "WE'RE GOING TO DETOX THIS CITY" came to mind and Katya froze in place, remembering that scene of horror, forever seared into her brain. 

"Shall we dance, Katya?" Violet asked flirtatiously, fluttering her eyelashes coquettishly. 

Katya stared at her wide-eyed, about to protest when Violet laid one on her. Their lips locked and the burlesque performer pressed up sensually against her, the detective momentarily forgetting everything except the feeling of the vixen's lips against hers. 

Sharon chuckled good-naturedly, obviously enjoying watching them kiss, bringing Katya back to the present. "By all means, take your lover for a turn about the dance floor before your number. Whenever you're ready, head backstage. I'll be watching." Sharon left them to take to the dance floor while he made his rounds, affording them a moment to themselves. 

Violet led them in a facsimile of a dance, again pressing herself right up against the stiff detective so she could whisper in her ear without much risk of eavesdroppers. 

"You ok, Katya?" The Russian merely stated forlornly at her. Violet pressed their lips together and forced Katya to dance with her. She continued, "I get it, I really do. You're so brave to be here and I know it's hard for you but you have to play along. Find out who did it. Make it out of here alive. Do it for her."

"I am doing it for her," she grumbled. "But you kissed me!"

"And I'll probably do it again before the night is out," she said unrepentantly. Katya stared hard at her. "It doesn't count," said Violet firmly. 

"What?" hissed Katya. 

"It doesn't count," she repeated. "That kiss doesn't count. You're not disloyal to Trixie. We're undercover and you were about to blow it, detective. I had to shut up somehow and that was quickest way."

"I didn't even say anything!"

"That was the point!" 

Katya stared hard at her before heaving a sigh. "I don't want to fight, Violet, not with you at least. But I don't know what I'm doing here or how to go about finding the information I need."

Violet gave her a sympathetic squeeze as she continued to lead the dance. "Straightforward interrogation won't work here. Some of them already know who you are. Avoid them if you can. Focus on the ones who look like they want to eat you up. Play dumb. Men like nothing more than to feel as if they can explain things to a beautiful woman. They're more likely to blab and tell you what you need to know."

Suddenly Katya leaned forward and captured Violet's lips in a kiss. "Thank you. It's good advice. And I suppose you should probably take to the stage soon." She pecked her on the lips again. "For luck, as you said."

Violet merely smiled cryptically at the Russian detective as she withdrew. Katya didn't have to wait long before the lights dimmed and the band started to play an alluring number. A moment later Violet appeared as a chanteuse began to sing. Katya was so struck by seeing Violet in this light that she gasped aloud. She was in her element, all eyes on her as she teased the crowd and drew them in. She paid obvious attention to Sharon as the song continued. 

"...as you walk on by. I can smell the lust that's behind your eyes. Tearing me limb from limb. I tip my hat, nod and grin. I've got what you're craving for your misbehaving. A slap in the face, a cuff in the..." 

Violet swayed enticingly to the beat, grabbing the crowd's attention and keeping it on her. Katya was mesmerized, as was everyone else present watching Violet perform. Katya had to remember herself and take note of the rest of the room. The lust in Sharon and Matt's eyes was hard to miss, as was the hatred in Detox's. Save for the hitman, it seemed as if everyone in the room could think of nothing but taking the burlesque beauty to bed. 

"I'll drive you crazy..."

Katya took note of a tall thin man who had a particularly predatory look in his eyes as he watched Violet begin to remove her clothes. The detective made a note to stay away from him if she could. Something about him unnerved her. 

"Let me cut you off a slice of heaven..." 

A handsome young man with big eyes dared to approach the stage. Violet smirked at his boldness but flittered away teasingly, mindful that the whole room was watching their silent exchange. Sharon seemed to be amused, unthreatened by this foolish young dreamer. 

"Darling angel you are just my size. A perfect fit for me to my surprise..."

Violet sent some flirtatious gestures her way as Katya continued to observed the room. A great many men were suddenly paying her attention upon too and Violet's earlier words about who to talk to came to mind. The foolish young man and the man with the unnerving gaze looked hungrily at her while Detox and Pearl both sneered at her. Best to avoid those two and focus on the ones interested in her. 

"It's way too late to contemplate. You're going down baby. You're going down..."

Violet had turned her attention back to Sharon, reminding the rest of the room that she was there as the mob boss' guest and it would be unwise to invite his displeasure. That however did little to stop them staring as she finally revealed her breasts, nipples covered by glittering tassels that she made swing enticingly. 

"Let me cut you off a slice of heaven, let me cut you off a piece of pie."

The song finally ended and the club patrons roared their approval. Katya was too absorbed in cheering for Violet that she didn't see the man who appeared at her elbow until he spoke. 

"You're the luckiest woman in the world, to get a slice of that heaven every night." He indicated Violet as she took her bows and exited the stage. He smiled and Katya was immediately discomforted by the hungry look that he now directed at her. "I'm sure the two of you look so hot together. Sharon is a lucky man to get to see that. I wonder though, how long his luck will hold out." 

Katya fought down the urge to put the man in his place. She wasn't at liberty to do that here. She had to play the game that Violet did everyday. So Katya giggled shyly. 

"I know I'm lucky. Violet's an amazing girl," Katya managed. Sticking to mostly truths was easier. Violet was amazing after all. "I saw you watching her. Have you seen her perform before?"

The man cackled. "Who hasn't seen her? She's the only one that makes it worth going to The Kit Kat Club. But her being here means that Sharon has brought her here. About time. But can he keep her is the real question. It's a dangerous city. They say our city's god is poised to fall, too obsessed with obtaining beautiful women to see the rebellion in his ranks. You can call me Mr. Charles, dollface. And I'm telling you this so that you and that pretty thing on the stage don't end up on the wrong side. It'd be a pity if you two did. You're far too pretty for that." The man scoffed. 

"Heard Detox's boys beat up some ugly broad who worked for some nosy detectives," Mr. Charles continued. "I don't know what they thought they were doing, coming after the mob." He laughed as if was the funniest joke he'd ever heard and Katya had trouble keeping up the façade. 

Katya adopted an airy tone to her voice like she'd heard Violet do. "Detox's boys?" Katya fluttered her long lashes. "Who are they?"

Mr. Charles smiled. "It's good you understand. I'll point out to you the people you need to know in this room." He sidled up behind her and pointed out various people as he held her close. "You know Tox and his husband Matt. Roxxxy over there is Tox's right hand woman. See those four over there? Those are Tox's hit squad. They carry out assassinations with Tox. I'm sure they'd be grateful if you could supply them with a list of names of those loyal to Sharon. You'd be well rewarded," he whispered in her ear as he pressed his body against hers. 

"Katya! There you are!" Katya immediately extracted herself from the creep holding her as she heard Violet's voice. "Mr. Charles. How nice to see you," she flirted airily. "Did you enjoy my performance?" She took Katya's hand. "I know you did, Katya." Violet smirked and grinned. 

"I certainly did," Mr. Charles said as he looked over the two women. "That is a beautiful dress."

Violet twirled while still holding Katya's hand. "Isn't it? A gift from Sharon." 

Mr. Charles was not impressed. "If I were you, I'd be careful who I got my gifts from. A beautiful girl like you, like your lady love, you could do so much better."

Violet laughed like it was a ridiculous joke but Katya knew Violet realized exactly what the man was implying. "Oh Mr. Charles, what are you saying?"

But before he could answer, Sharon approached them. Mr. Charles smiled. "Ask your lady love, Miss Violet. She's a clever sort. Sharon," Mr. Charles nodded to the mob boss, "if you'll excuse me." 

Sharon watched with narrow eyes as the man retreated. "I don't trust him," Sharon confessed. 

Violet wrapped herself around Sharon's side. "I wouldn't either if I were you."

Sharon wrapped an arm around Violet and held out his other for Katya to join. Katya did her best to imitate Violet and cuddle up to the mob boss. He smelled of cigar smoke and expensive cologne.

Sharon rubbed Violet tenderly. "You don't need to worry about that, angel. Shall we take a seat and watch the rest of the evening's performances? Though none will be as good as yours," Sharon smiled at Violet. "I am pleased with you."

Violet blushed prettily. Katya didn't know how she did it. "I'm pleased to have pleased you. Shall we?" Violet took Sharon's arm and Katya did the same, earning a grin from the mob boss as he escorted them to his table. 

The rest of the performances were nice, but the performance Katya truly watched was Violet's. She flirted shamelessly with Sharon and Katya, leaving the detective blushing as the burlesque performer voiced some fantasies she'd had about Katya. Katya, for her part, couldn't help but get enthralled by Violet's performance, and even if she knew that they were only playing lovers, and Trixie was in the hospital, and Violet could be dead by the end of the night, Katya couldn't help but buy into the world of fantasy love that Violet spun for them. After all, Katya had reason to believe that there was some grain of truth to Violet's words. 

The performances onstage came to end and Sharon smiled at Katya. "Miss Katya, will you honor me with a dance? I find myself wanting to know better the woman who's captured my enchanting Violet's heart."

Katya's eyes widened in fear and Violet laughed. "She'd be honored, Sharon," Violet answered in Katya's stead. "Just don't pull anything too complicated on the dance floor."

Katya gulped and gave Violet a look of betrayal as Sharon led Katya to the dance floor. Once there, he put Katya's hands on his body, a little more familiarly than Katya was used to, and his hands came to rest teasingly low on her hips.

Sharon smiled as he led her in a simple dance. "Tell me, Detective, you're a smart woman and surely you've noticed things this evening."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Katya replied. 

Sharon threw his head back and laughed, causing most of the room to turn and look at them, including Violet from where she swayed with a handsome man with big eyes. 

"You're a quick study," Sharon observed. "The sexual tension between you and our dear Violet is delicious, but you're not just here for Miss Chachki. I just want to know what you've seen tonight."

Katya cleared her throat. "There are those who believe your reign is at an end and that it wouldn't be wise for beautiful girls like myself and Miss Chachki to end up on the wrong side," she answered truthfully. 

Sharon quirked an eyebrow at her honesty. "Mr. Charles has long been someone I've kept tabs on, as I know he's the sort to ally himself to others so he can see which way the wind blows. I'm just surprised he's been so open about his rebellion of my reign." Sharon smirked. "That snake in the grass is no true threat to me. Perhaps I'll have Detox take care of him."

Katya's jaw dropped open. Did he truly not know that Detox was his real opponent? 

But before Katya could say anything, the man himself approached. 

"I hate to interrupt, Sharon, but there's something urgent that's come up," Detox said, completely ignoring Katya's presence. 

Sharon pulled Katya closer to him. "Can it wait? I'm busy getting to know the lovely Miss Zamolodchikova." 

Detox frowned. "Unfortunately not."

Sharon frowned and pulled away. He kissed Katya's hand. "Forgive me."

She barely had time to watch them depart before she found herself pulled into another dance. With Matt James Lent. 

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" she hissed through clenched teeth, but not wanting to cause a scene she let him lead the dance. 

He though held her as far away as possible while still whispering in her ear. "Believe me, Detective, I wouldn't go to you if I had any other choice but you and Violet are in danger. She's too cozy with Sharon and his crowd. My husband wants to off her too, take away all of Sharon's toys to show him he doesn't run this city anymore. And I can't convince him not to kill her, not without revealing myself. Tox is going to kill her. Tonight if he can. She won't join us. She's too proud. You have to get her to leave the city though. It's her only chance. My husband is too good at what he does. Please, Detective, I'm begging you."

Katya took a hard look at the young man. Whatever things he'd done, it seemed he at least didn't want Violet killed. While Sharon killing Violet seemed a possibility, the threat of Detox murdering Violet was all too real. Katya turned to look at the dame, who was still dancing with the same man. 

"That's the son of Sharon's second. Violet's been sticking to Sharon's loyalists. Making it as if there's no way to win her over. Those on my husband's side want to do terrible things to Violet especially. Make sure she's not alone with anyone who isn't Sharon's." The urgency in Matt's voice couldn't be ignore. 

Katya nodded grimly. "I don't plan on losing her tonight. Though that pretty fool has already made her peace with death. I don't know how amendable she'll be to running away from it."

Matt frowned. "She has to. She has to!" Matt stared intensely at Katya. "Promise me you'll get her out of here."

Katya nodded. "I'll do my best." 

Matt gripped her arms. "Promise me!"

"I promise." Though if push came to shove, Katya knew she had to honor her promise to Violet. She turned to look at the dame. Matt followed her gaze as Katya realized Violet was gone. 

"Fuck," Katya swore.

 

Matt and Katya split to search for Violet, hoping to rescue her before it was too late. Katya couldn't help but start to feel a little desperate but, unlike Matt, she did a good job of hiding it. Others were starting to notice his concern, and wonder about it. What business did Detox's boy have looking for Sharon's girl?

Katya gritted her teeth. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't have been too late. Not again. Katya was beginning to despair. There's no way Violet could make another miraculous reappearance. 

But then she did and Katya couldn't help herself but launch herself at the girl and pull her into a tight embrace. 

"How many lives do you have left, Miss Kitty?" Katya asked, trying to hide her worry. 

Violet chuckled. "Think I've got at least one left. Sorry I left. Morgan had a lead that was too good to pass up." Violet placed a folded envelop into Katya's brassiere. "Sharon has no idea Detox is trying to overthrow him. But there are those in his camp that suspect the hitman is up to no good. That's a copy of some of the proof Morgan obtained. You can get justice for Trixie. We got what we needed. You should go. I'll stay and wait for Sharon. I'll tell him you weren't feeling well.

Katya shook her head. "Violet, you don't understand. You have to leave with me. Right now. Matt told me that Detox's men mean to do terrible things to you and murder you tonight. His fear was real. He made me promise to get you out of here and leave the city."

Violet stared at the detective. "Katya, if they're after me. They're after you too." A quick look around the room and Violet could already see the hostile environment it had become. Violet held Katya's face. "If only one of us makes it out of here, it has to be you. You have to go to the police, you have to go back to Max and Trixie. You have to be safe."

Katya couldn't form words as she gaped at Violet. She knew Violet was right, but she didn't want to resign Violet to death already. "We have to go, right now."

"Without saying goodbye?" Sharon purred silkily. "I must say, I expected better manners from you, Miss Zamolodchikova." Sharon's eyes flashed dangerously. 

Violet sidled up to Sharon, who put an arm around the beauty. "We meant no offense, Sharon. My dear Katya just isn't feeling so well all of a sudden."

Sharon's eyes flickered to Katya and the detective wasn't convinced Sharon was falling for Violet's honeyed words. "You do look a little pale, Miss Katya. I'll have Chad bring the car around." Sharon made a gesture with his free hand and Katya assumed that Chad was indeed about to bring the car around. 

Sharon turned back to Violet. "And tell me, my dear Violet. Why was Matt so worriedly looking for you?"

This time Violet did not keep the disgust from her face or the pain from her voice. "I don't know but I want absolutely nothing to do wth him. He hurt Fame."

Sharon frowned. "How?"

Violet shook, trying to hold back tears. "He wronged her. Used her when he came to see her at the Cosmo. Stole from her too. But Fame never recovered from what he really did to her."

Sharon growled. "Why didn't she tell me?"

Violet looked to him with tears in her eyes. "She was too hurt from it. And I don't know if she knew the depths of how badly he wronged her." Violet leaned on Sharon and he wrapped her in his arms. 

"Don't cry, Miss Chachki. Let's go home. You both can stay with me if you like."

Violet smiled softly. "A generous offer, Mr. Needles."

Sharon smiled ruefully. "I sense a 'but'. My offer is an open one. You two are welcome to join me in my home at any time." He kissed the top of Violet's head. "Let's get you both home."

 

Katya found herself cuddled up with Sharon and Violet in the back of Sharon's car as they drove to Violet's apartment. Katya wasn't exactly sure how it had happened but there was something magnetic about the pair of them. 

Katya knew she had to get back to Trixie but that didn't mean she couldn't relax in this moment. Katya rested against Sharon's shoulder as he held her and kissed Violet too. 

Katya wondered if they should tell Sharon about Detox but given the way he was attached to Violet's plush lips, now was clearly not the time. Violet and Katya's joined hands were resting on Sharon's lap and Sharon caressed Katya's shoulder, not wanting her to feel left out. Katya didn't, content to let Violet distract the mob boss with her kisses. 

Sharon pulled away with a soft chuckle. "I confess, I don't know if I'm ready to take you two home yet," Sharon purred. 

Violet chuckled. "I'm afraid Katya prefers the fairer sex, but perhaps I could give you some quick relief," Violet offered. 

Sharon's eyes darkened with lust, but he sighed sadly. "It's truly a shame that you've come to me only now that Fame has been taken from us. What I wouldn't give to have had you both be mine. I would have given you two the world."

Violet smiled sadly. "She would have liked that."

Sharon pulled Violet in for a kiss and he swept her hair out of her face. "Would you honor her memory with me?"

"You know, she never told me what exactly she was to you," Violet admitted. "She said you were very dear to her and always had a place in her heart. Meaningful words from Fame. She let few people into her heart. She'd had it broken too many times."

Sharon held Violet. "She was my closest friend. My confidant. My lover. My muse. What I wouldn't give to have her back. If only I knew who did this to her..."

"It was Detox." Katya's voice shook. "Detox thinks you've gone soft and that Fame made you that way. He intends to kill Violet tonight."

Sharon and Violet both looked at her wide-eyed. "How do you know this?" Sharon asked.

"I'm a detective after all," she replied, unwilling to reveal that Violet had essentially witnessed the murder. 

Sharon's eyes narrowed. But Violet spoke first. "I saw it. I confess I haven't been entirely honest with you because I didn't know what Fame really was to you. But you loved her like I did. And I know that now. She died to protect me from Detox. She shouldn't have." Violet's tears fell in earnest now. "I hired Katya to help me find the lover I had after Fame and I parted. But we uncovered something far more sinister at work. My lover was Detox's husband in drag. I didn't know. Fame did. Fame helped him create his identity, and he paid her back by poisoning our relationship and getting her fired to get her out of the way." Violet sniffled. 

"But Detox is planning to overthrow you," Violet continued. "Young Mr. Michaels has been gathering proof as well."

Sharon frowned. "Chad, take us home instead. Miss Chachki, Detective Zamolodchikova, tell me everything."

Katya found that they had no choice as the mob boss took them to his home. There'd be no escape from him now if things went wrong.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Katya tightly gripped the arms of the chair she sat in, watching as Violet told everything to the mob boss who believed himself a god. This room looked like a gothic chapel, and Sharon sat enthroned in front of stained glass window, making him look terrifyingly godlike as Violet kneeled at his feet, making her confession. 

Katya scanned Sharon's face for signs of how he took the news of Detox and Matt's betrayal, and her and Violet's tale of uncovering this sinister plot. He stroked Violet's hair as they waited for his verdict.

"My Violet, you tell a troubling tale. My right hand man seeks to overthrow me, acts without my permission, and murders my friends. All this, without my knowledge. Impossible, I'd say." 

Sharon stole a glance at Katya and the detective didn't like the look in his eyes. "I am the God of this city. How can it be that this has come to pass?" Sharon looked heavenward. "I have suspected that someone moved against me. But I did not think that it came from so close to me. How is it that you know of Detox's betrayal but I don't?" Sharon's eyes flashed dangerously. 

The mob boss looked again to the girl at his feet. "I know it's hard to believe, but please. You must. For Fame's sake if for nothing else. If there's anything I can do to make you believe, please."

Sharon tipped her chin up. "My sweet Violet. There is one part of your tale that makes no sense to me." He tipped her head to look at Katya. "You are not lovers, you say so at least, but what I saw between you tonight was real. My modistes too have seen you rather intimate with each other."

Violet looked at Katya as she spoke. "I cannot deny that the idea of Detective Zamolodchikova taking me to bed and conquering me bodily has great appeal. But her heart belongs to another, and I would do her a great disservice should I attempt to seduce her away."

Sharon smiled sadly. "A pity as seeing the two of you resolve your unspoken tension would do a great deal to relieve my distrust of your information. I find that I want to see for myself how true your desire is for each other. But if it is not to be, I am not such a brute of a man as to force the situation. But my sweet, I will then want to take you to bed, to break you before I build you back up again. And see just how much you trust me. You will both stay here while you recover from my arts."

Something protective stirred in Katya. She knew that Violet could handle herself and that she was accustomed to Sharon's games. But Katya didn't want her to have to submit to them. Nor did she think that they had the time to waste while Violet recovered and Max and Trixie were outside Sharon's world, vulnerable to Detox's threat. 

But deep in her heart, Katya knew that these were flimsy, easy excuses. She wanted Violet. Badly. She wanted that proud and vexing creature begging and helpless and desperate for her. She wanted to see Violet's eyes as she was teased and pleasured. She wanted to be the one to use her beautiful body and bring her to ecstasy. She wanted to experience for herself what it would be like to love Violet Chachki. 

Sharon asking to see them together as proof that they told the truth was the perfect excuse for laying Violet while Trixie was in the hospital, possibly never to wake again. Katya wanted to do it because even though the sexy dame had plenty of admirers, she wanted Katya back. The same could not be said of most of whom she took into her bed. 

"We'll do it," Katya announced. "I want to take Miss Chachki to bed. And you can see how genuine we are. Because it's no lie that I've wanted her since I first laid eyes on her. And I want to show her that."

Violet's jaw dropped open. "Are you sure? I mean, God, I want you. But I didn't think you'd ever..."

Sharon smirked. "As your God, I can tell you that she does want you. I want to watch you too. Will you give us another show?"

Violet nodded and stood. Sharon put on some music and Violet smiled prettily at him as she fell into practiced motions, at least until she was down to her lingerie. Then she deviated.

Katya's eyes followed the burlesque performer hungrily as she approached, and Violet offered her a glove to remove, and then another. Suddenly, Katya wasn't paying attention to the music. She just wanted Violet naked.

Katya wasn't proud of the careless way she tore the rest of the clothes from Violet's body but she'd seen the girl in a state of undress too many times to want to wait to see her fully naked. She was beautiful and lovely, perfect creamy skin just begging for her and Sharon to mark up. 

Katya's eyes flickered to the mob boss, who was watching them with great interest. He'd taken a seat on back on his regal chair, practically a throne, and watched as Violet let Katya have her. Something possessive stirred in Katya and she went straight for Violet's neck, sucking a deep, dark bruise into Violet's flesh as the pretty broad whimpered. 

"Now get on your knees and take my panties off. Get to work," Katya growled. She had threaded her fingers through Violet's hair and she could see the surprise and desire in Violet's eyes as she wordlessly complied. 

Violet slid her fingers under Katya's skirt, freeing her from her panties but leaving her garters and stockings and heels in place. Violet cleverly arranged the slit in Katya's skirt so that she could have Katya at the edge her seat, exposed to her mouth so she could indeed get to work. 

Violet looked over Katya's body and she could practically feel the lust. "What are you waiting for, kitten? Get to it." Katya tugged Violet's hair, urging her forward. Katya wanted to just put Violet's face in her wet pussy. 

"Just admiring you, Mistress," Violet purred. It was just all so sinful, the way Violet said it. Katya couldn't hold back any longer and brought her pussy to Violet's mouth as she held the back of Violet's head in place. 

Violet was no stranger to this and immediately Katya was moaning as Violet worked her into a frenzy, teasing and playing. Katya growled in frustration. She wanted this so bad.

Katya pressed her heels into Violet's back, urging her on, and Violet stopped her teasing. She gave Katya a heated look and then began in earnest. Katya didn't stand a chance against that clever tongue. 

Katya screamed as she shook apart, crying out for Violet, and for a god she didn't believe in. Vaguely she was aware of Sharon's soft chuckle as Violet brought her over the edge. She'd never come so quick, so hard before. 

Violet licked Katya's juices away with delicate little licks and wiped her sinful little mouth, all the while looking straight at Katya. The detective whimpered, still feeling the aftereffects of such a powerful orgasm.

Once she'd recovered enough to function, Katya pet Violet's hair. "I suppose it should be no surprise that you're very good at that..." Katya chuckled. 

Violet smirked. "I've had some practice, Mistress. I hope it pleases you." She shifted and rubbed her legs together. She was not unaffected then. 

Katya took two fingers and swiped up Violet's slit. She was soaked. Katya felt a bit smug at that. She put her fingers in her mouth to taste Violet and watch the girl whimper. 

She was so obedient, so well-trained. If it were not callous, perhaps Katya would envy the dead. The late Miss Fame was surely the reason Violet sat so still, so obedient, so needy. She was certainly the reason Violet knew what to do with her face in a woman's pussy. 

Katya scratched Violet's scalp affectionately. "There's so much I want to do to you."

Violet's lips quirked. "I will do whatever you want me to." She looked up at Katya and the detective knew that she truly meant those words. Right here and now, Violet was hers. 

"What would you like to do, if I were feeling generous enough to permit you?" Katya challenged. While Katya appreciated Violet's submission, if they were going to do this, and they were, Katya wanted Violet to have a say in this. 

"I'd sit in your lap and kiss you as you fondled my ass before you got on top of me and fingered me and sucked on my neck and talked me into an orgasm."

Before Katya could respond, they both looked to the sound of a door opening. 

"Don't mind me," Sharon said. "But perhaps we can all get a little more comfortable."

Katya had forgotten the man was there, and the situation they were in. He could easily kill them both, and there would be no justice for Fame, none for Max, no justice for Trixie. 

Violet leaned against Katya, looking up at her with trusting eyes. 

The door led to Sharon's lavish bedroom. It was impossibly sexual and darkly romantic. It almost looked like a vampire's bedroom, all luxe and deep red tones. The bed was made of ebony and Katya would not be surprised if there were manacles attached to it. 

Laying Violet on a bed, even one as gaudy as this one, would be far more comfortable. Katya hated to admit it, but Violet, with her pale skin and dark hair, looked perfectly in place in this gothic bedroom. It made Katya long for a tight collar to place around Violet's beautiful long neck. 

Sharon pushed open the wood paneling, revealing a plethora of sexual implements, from toys and harnesses and restrains to all manner of things to impact the body with, Katya began to see the sort of games Sharon liked to play. 

Violet however had a spark in her eyes as Sharon revealed the toys. "Please," Sharon said, "use whatever you'd like."

Katya moved to examine the implements. "Violet, get on the bed. Lay on your back."

Katya continued to look over the selection. She skipped over the toys, wanting Violet to come on her fingers and tongue alone. She wasn't going to strike Violet either. But the restraints and things of that nature intrigued Katya more. Finally Katya set eyes on the thing she was looking for. A thick black leather collar with a leash and multiple other rings for Katya to hook her fingers into. 

"Kneel for me, Violet." Katya brought the collar over and fastened it to Violet's outstretched neck. She laid down on the bed, deciding not to undress further as Sharon did not deserve to see Katya naked, and Katya pulled Violet's leash, urging her on top and her pretty face closer to Katya's own. 

Katya took command of Violet's lips, pulling the girl's leash ever so slightly. Violet's lips melted against her and Katya sighed softly. Her free hand rubbed down Violet's bare body and squeezed her fine ass a few times before coming to grip her breast. Violet has such perfect breasts, it wasn't fair. 

Katya abruptly flipped them and Violet gasped softly as she hit the mattress, her hair fanned out around her. Katya straddled her and played with her breasts, examining them closely. They seemed perfectly round and symmetrical. Katya looked down at her own, knowing that the left was just slightly bigger than the right and she marveled at Violet's perfection. 

Katya had let the leash fall to the side as she teased and fondled Violet's breasts, gripping them tightly and squeezing them. Katya bent to suck on Violet's nipple, wanting to see it a perfect point of pleasure. Violet made the cutest little soft sounds of pleasure and Katya was addicted. She teased Violet's nipple until it was sensitive and red and did the same to the other side. Katya rubbed the tender flesh just to hear Violet moan. 

Violet looked up at Katya, her eyes half-hooded in lust and her mouth parted with pleasure. "Keep rubbing your nipples," she instructed. Violet did so as Katya kissed her. A hand snaked down to Violet's pussy, and Katya teasingly rubbed just away from where Violet wanted to be touched. 

She let out a needy moan and Katya wondered if she could make Violet make that noise again. "Please, Katya," Violet begged. "I need you to touch me."

Violet was begging just for her. And it was so beautiful. Katya kissed the top of Violet's forehead. 

"How can I deny such a sweet request when you've been so good to me? Say my name."

Katya put two fingers into Violet's pussy. She was soaking wet, even wetter than she'd been when Katya had taken a swipe earlier. Fuck, she was so turned on by what Katya was doing to her. Katya grinned triumphantly. 

She began to move and crook her fingers, feeling Violet out and seeing what she responded to before beginning to stimulate her clit. 

"Oh Katya!"

Violet whimpered and opened her legs wider, wordlessly begging for Katya to pleasure her and Katya was beginning to get drunk on the sensation. She felt her own self become slick and needy once again, having this beautiful creature at her mercy.

Katya pulled her fingers out and Violet let out a needy whine. "Shh Violet. I will take care of you. Sit on my lap." Katya adjusted herself so that she sat propped up against the pillows and pulled Violet's leash to bring the girl closer. "Keep rubbing your nipples," Katya instructed once Violet was in position. She knew Sharon would take Violet to bed soon and Katya selfishly wanted to leave as many marks on Violet as she could before then. 

Violet was so needy, so responsive as Katya fingered her. Katya let go of the leash and began to rub Violet's clit, eagerly wrangling an orgasm from Violet. She glared at Sharon as she made Violet come apart. I own her. Not you. 

Violet felt limp against Katya and Katya held her close before placing Violet back down on the bed. Katya gave her a tender kiss before resuming her dominant air. "Hold your legs up. I am not done with you."

Violet hadn't caught her breath yet but she complied. Katya buried her face in Violet's wet pussy. Katya was addicted to the sounds Violet made. She was so honest in her pleasure, a unexpected quality from such a deceptive dame as she. She continued to moan Katya's name and the detective never wanted to stop hearing that. 

Katya drew this out a little more, but not as much as she wanted to. Violet wanted her and Katya wanted to bring Violet as much pleasure as she could. She sucked on Violet's bud and held her hips in place as Violet began to shake. Violet's hands tangled in her hair and found one of her and they held hands as Katya brought Violet another orgasm. 

Violet pulled Katya up for a deep kiss and the pair held each other tight. Violet looked at Katya with such love in her eyes and it was almost startling to see. Katya instead dove into Violet's swanlike neck and sucked another dark love bite onto her flesh. 

Sharon shifted and Katya knew her time was drawing to a close. She moved so that she straddled Violet and sat on her face, gripping Violet's perfect breasts as she rutted against the girl's pretty face. Violet whimpered and used her tongue, letting Katya use her for pleasure. 

Katya flipped them and Violet got on her hands and knees before Katya, using her mouth to bring the detective pleasure. Violet was just too good at this, and Katya came a second time faster than she would have liked. 

Limply she lay against the bed and she opened her arms to Violet. The pair lay panting in each other's arms and Katya planted a loving kiss on Violet. 

Sharon sat down on the bed next to them. "It seems you do care about each other. And that you both know how to love another lady."

The mob boss put a hand on Violet's calf. "I hope you're not spent yet, my sweet Violet. Your... display has left me eager to share my bed with you. Katya, you are welcome to stay or go to a guest room as you please."

Katya growled and held Violet too her. She was reluctant to give the girl up but Violet gave her a reassuring squeeze as she sat up. 

"I'm staying," Katya grumbled as she relocated to the sofa. 

Sharon took Violet into his arms and pulled her into his lap and Violet rested against his shoulder as he handcuffed Violet, arranged her, and then slid into her.

Katya watched as Sharon went for hours. Violet certainly seemed to tire towards the end but she mostly kept up with Sharon as he arranged her as he pleased and took her mouth, pussy and ass. Katya didn't know how Violet took the pounding or how Sharon never seemed to slow.

It was only once Sharon was finally spent did things finally wind down. Katya was tired and she could only imagine Violet was even more so. 

"Get ready for bed my dears," Sharon said. 

Violet nodded and made her way over to Katya on shaky legs. She took Katya's hand and led them to Sharon's ensuite and Katya helped her clean up. Sharon had come in Violet and Katya wanted to wash his spending from her body but Violet stilled Katya's hands. 

"You worry too much, Katya. Let me get you something to sleep in."

Katya found herself changed into a soft nightgown, elegant and beautiful without being revealing. Katya wanted to ask Violet how she was, but now wasn't the time. She didn't know what the morning would bring them but Sharon didn't seem like he was displeased with them. 

Sharon wore only silk pajama bottoms as he waited for them to join him. Violet urged Katya to one side and she moved to Sharon's other. The mob boss wrapped his arms around them both as they nestled close to him.

"'Tis a pity we cannot do this all the time," Sharon said softly. "Sleep well, my dears."

 

The next morning Katya awoke with Violet in her arms and no sign of the mob boss. Unable to wait, Katya shook Violet awake. Violet groaned and opened one eye to look at Katya.

"Morning," Violet whispered. "Where's Sharon?"

Katya shook her head. "I don't know. We need to get out of here."

Violet moved closer to snuggle with Katya. "We're in no danger. Sharon is pleased with us. He'll have taken care of business while we slept. He'll let you go as soon as he comes back."

Violet sat up and sorted through their discarded clothes. She came up with the envelope she'd shoved into Katya's brasserie the previous night. "This is the proof you need. Make copies. Take it to Officer Fierce. They can't ignore this. This is enough to get those who attacked Trixie behind bars. And with Sharon's help, we can take down Detox and Pearl."

"I'm going to stay here with him. You need to go out there and do what you can with the police. You need to be there for Max and Trixie. I'll do more good here."

"You can't stay here." Katya stared at Violet. "You can't stay here."

Violet took Katya's hand. "Katya, you have to understand. I could do a lot worse than Sharon. I think- I think I'm starting to fall for him. I've always been attracted to him but I never really knew what to make of him. But I know now. He's not a god but a man. A man who wants to believe that he's great. And he is. He has the power to run this city. But he's lonely. And a lonely man, that I know how to deal with."

Violet gave Katya's hand a squeeze. "I'm glad we got to have this time together. But you've got Trixie to go back to. And Max and your detective agency. But this, this is my world. Sharon's world. But Katya, if you ever need a change, you'll always be welcome here. This isn't the last time you'll see me, Katya." Violet kissed Katya's brow. 

Katya shook her head at the perplexing dame. "I don't think I'll ever fully understand you, Violet. But I think I know you well enough to know that there's no changing your mind once you've made it up."

Violet smiled sadly. "You're right, my dear friend."

Katya frowned slightly. "Max will be disappointed to know what you've decided."

Violet nodded. "I know. But he's too good for me and you and I both know it. He'll think he isn't, but he is. He'll find a nice respectable girl and marry her and have a whole bunch of kids with her. He'll be happy."

Before Katya could reply, Sharon reappeared. He went straight to Violet to give her a good morning kiss.

Katya was trying to decide if Violet really cared about the mob boss. She seemed to. It was no longer the false games she played, but an honest smile and laugh as Sharon deepened their kiss. 

Sharon broke their kiss and turned to Katya. "I would offer you a similar good morning but I know it would not be welcome, Miss Katya. I trust you both slept well." Katya merely nodded so the mob boss continued. "Your information has proved timely. If you ever need a favor, Detective, know that you have a friend in me. I now am in position to take down this opposition and I will not forget who has helped this come to be. And you will of course always be welcome here with myself and Violet should you ever like to spend the night or even just come by for tea. I've brought you a dress to wear. There's breakfast in the lounge. Take your time getting ready for the day. I've arranged for my personal driver to take you home when you are ready. You'll find that Miss Mattel has been moved to a more cutting edge facility. She'll receive only the best of care." Sharon took Katya's hand and kissed it. "You have my thanks, Miss Katya. I'll leave you in peace now."

Katya stared after the mob boss. Violet was right, he was a man of immense power and Violet could do a lot worse than him. But it didn't mean that she was truly comfortable with Violet remaining with him. With a shrug, she made use of Sharon's facilities and readied herself for her day. 

Now dressed and fed and looking mostly like her usual self save for the new dress Sharon had gifted her with, Katya rejoined Violet. "I hope you know what you're doing, staying with this man. I know you have your reasons."

"I take it you're not pleased with me?" Violet asked. 

"I care about you Violet. I know you know that. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I've been hurt in so many ways already," Violet laughed. "But yes. I do know that you care about me. And I care about you. We both know that my case is nearly closed. Just a few more things need doing."

"I know." Katya sighed and pulled Violet in for a hug. She pressed a kiss to the side of Violet's head. "Take care, Violet. I will be very upset with you if I see your pretty face under a newspaper headline in the next couple days."

Violet chuckled. "You'd have every right to be. Goodbye, Detective. Take care of Max for me. I never meant to hurt any of you. I hope you know that."

"I do. Goodbye Violet. And I've seen Sharon's world now and I finally understand." Katya took Violet's dainty hands in hers and pressed a kiss to them. "Until we meet again, my friend."

"Until then, Katya." Violet smiled bravely as she departed and the Russian, stared after her, still unsure if she'd ever see the enchanting dame again.

Katya knew there was nothing left but to return to Trixie and call Max and tell him what had transpired. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

_A few hours later..._

A knock sounded and the young detective peered out to see who entreated entrance to his apartment. Max opened his door to admit the black-haired beauty, pleased that she'd returned to him after all. Katya had informed him of their evening. But after her wordless entry she stood and stared, as if memorizing the room for the last time. It unnerved him. "Violet," he sighed as he leaned in for a kiss. The burlesque performer turned her head, his lips connecting with her soft cheek. "Violet?" he asked uncertainty. 

"I had hoped to find you here, Max. We can't do this anymore," she said softly. 

"What?" he asked, unsure of what was going on.

"A dame like me is no good for a respectable young man like yourself and you know it. We can't continue to see each other. It's been fun, Mister Malanaphy, but this is the end for us," Violet said as if it were the most logical thing in the world. Her face was composed and her voice firm. 

Max crossed his arms. "Tell me, Violet, are you lying to comfort me or to make yourself feel better?"

"Max please don't make this any harder than is has to be," Violet pleaded. She bit her lip and wrung her hands. Max stilled her fidgeting and looked her in her eyes. 

"Violet, please. I'm not going to try to make you change your mind. You wouldn't do this without a reason but I think I deserve the truth at least," he said. 

She took a deep breath before answering him. "I'm just here to collect my things. I belong to Sharon now and you deserve better than to be pulled into the underworld like that. Especially not on my account. He won't share me with another man, not for the rest of his life. He isn't what I expected him to be, but I think I'll be happy with him. He loves me."

Max blinked back the tears that came to his eyes unbidden and forced out words instead as he watched Violet pack. "I understand, Violet. Really I do. But if he's forcing you into this, we could always run away together," he suggested with a small smile. 

She returned it. "The idea is not without appeal Max, but where would we go?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere. Away from here. Somewhere they'd never find us!" He held her to him so their temples pressed together, helping her imagine a fugitive life with him. "A place where troubles melted like lemon drops, high above the chimney tops."

She laughed softly as she pulled away. "If such a place existed, I'd happily go off to it with you, dear Max," she smiled bittersweetly, "but it doesn't exist and Sharon Needles does. You're too good for this world he rules over. You're too good for me. For us all. You understand why I must leave you now. I'm in his sights now and he'll never let me go. And if he can't have me, no one will. That's the reality. But he isn't such a bad man. But I would never forgive myself if something more happened to you because of me. And Max, he isn't forcing me into anything. I- I think I love him. I was so wrong about him. He's no monster. There are monsters in this city, but he's not one." Violet tried to smile reassuringly.

"I- I think I can understand," said Max softly. He pressed a gentlemanly kiss to her knuckles. "Goodbye, Violet."

She smiled sadly. "Goodbye, Max. And good luck." She turned to go but then held back. Violet launched herself into Max's arms, pressing her lips to his for a long moment before finally leaving for good. 

Max watched her go with a bittersweet smile, knowing that that was likely the last time he'd ever see that captivating creature. He missed her already.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Katya had been in the office for an hour, going through the papers Violet has slipped her the other night, when Max arrived. He was dressed in a sharp suit and hat, his holster and two handguns obvious underneath, and he was carrying a large bag in his hand. 

"Partner, what's going on?" Katya asked, already on edge. Max normally abhorred violence and being openly armed was not his style. 

"Katya, I have something to confess to you. And something to show you too," Max looked tortured and alarm bells were ringing in the Russian's mind. He put the bag down on her desk. "Open it."

Katya obeyed, wary of what she'd find inside. To her shock and horror, she pulled out a glittering crown she'd only ever seen in photographs before. "Sharon Needles' crown?!" she shrieked, terrified at what it meant that Max had it. "Where did you get this?!"


End file.
